


Corrupted

by doingitallwithyou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, All the time, Bottom!Harry, Character Death, Child Abuse, Depressed Liam, Developing Relationship, Drug Addiction, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gay Male Character, Hurt Harry Styles, Hurt Niall, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Major Character Injury, Male-Female Friendship, Memory Loss, Niall is pretty much adorable, Non-Graphic Smut, Non-Graphic Violence, Physical Abuse, Protective Harry, Protective Liam, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Substance Abuse, Verbal Abuse, bottom!Niall, eventually maybe, i dont know what else to tag, oh yeah, possible, pretty much gay louis, yeah this story is a roller coaster, zerrie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 51,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doingitallwithyou/pseuds/doingitallwithyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One is raped, one is abused, one is anorexic, one is depressed, one is addicted to drugs, one is gay, and one is just a princess. </p><p>Liam, Louis, Niall, Harry, Zayn, Danielle and Eleanor are all keeping secrets and eventually everything just goes to shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Niall

**Author's Note:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way. 
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.
> 
>  
> 
> check out my tumblr, doingitallwithyou, i have many more one shots posted there :)  
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall's father is a less than pleasant person to be around, but at least he's got his friends.

 

A loud crash echoed from downstairs and Niall’s head perked up. So it’s going to be one of _those_ nights. 

 

“Don’t walk away when I’m talkin’ to ya, boy.” The Irish tinted words slurred out, spiking the hairs on the back of Niall’s neck. “Did ya hear me you fucking-” The drunken man’s speech was soon cut off by gagging and then an intense coughing fit, followed by the grotesque sound of vomiting. And though Niall would like nothing more than to let him choke on his own throw up, he figured that he should probably do something. His hands pulled away from his eyes and he shoved himself from the soft, light brown carpet of his bedroom. He stretched his back with a satisfying ‘pop’ and turned the lock with a small click. His shaking legs carried him down the small hallway and Niall stopped at the second door on the left and he poked his bleached-blonde head inside. Glassy blue eyes searched the dark room slowly before they stopped on a small figure huddled under the large duvet. A tiny loving smile played on his lips as he tip-toed silently into the room; He pulled the blanket down just enough to expose a pixie sized head of blonde hair. He planted a soft kiss on the forehead of the woman and mumbled a sweet goodnight into her hair.

 

Niall stood in the doorway for a moment, just watching his mums tiny body rise and fall with her breathing. The love he felt for his mother was overpowering and he felt the need to protect her, even if it meant his own safety was at risk. So Niall sighed sadly before he left the room, closing the door noiselessly behind him. As he walked down the remaining bit of the hallway he could already smell the bile he knew splattered the floor. He entered the kitchen and he immediately noticed the glass shattered across the dirty linoleum and all of the empty beer cans littered carelessly on every surface. And he was right; dead center on the tile was a large puddle of his father’s puke. It was rancid and disgusting and _everywhere._ Niall suppressed a gag as he tiptoed through the mess to get paper towel.  He dropped to his knees and hissed a quiet curse under his breath as he slowly mopped up the bile.

 

A few moments later the stench of stale cigarettes and alcohol began burning his throat, “Hey… Hey you let me do that, I can fucking do it!” 

 

Nialls eyes widened momentarily as he looked over his shoulder. They immediately narrowed again as he slowly picked himself up from the floor and ran a tired hand through his hair.

 

 “Just go to bed, yeah? Sleep this off and I’ll clean up the mess.” Niall’s words rolled smoothly off of his tongue with fake confidence, his was accent thick but clear. The concept seemed to bounce through one ear and curl in his father’s head for a moment, trapped between the walls of his probably empty skull before shooting out the other. Something about being drunk just made his father so damn stubborn.

 

“You aren’t talkin’ back to me, are ya?” His father accused, poking a sharp finger into Niall’s chest and pushing him back a step. Niall bit his lip nervously, braces catching uncomfortably on the skin, and he seethed a deep breath through his teeth. He straightened his posture and looked his inebriated father deep in his cloudy eyes. And he wasn’t exactly sure why he was instigating, maybe he was hoping his father would relax or go to bed or just stop drinking. But that’s never how it worked out, unfortunately. And Niall was almost expecting the fist to collide with his left cheek, so at least the element of surprise was gone. Stars sprinkled his vision and he blinked furiously, his head spinning. The fair-haired boy stumbled backward, cussing as hot tears poured down his now bruised face. The throb of the newly forming bruise was enough to make Niall realize that this was why he never tried to stand up against his dad. Niall looked up again, not at all surprised to see the anger and drunkenness drain quickly from his fathers eyes. They were immediately filled with sobriety and panic.

 

It was just like every other night. 

 

“I… I’ll just do this then? Yeah?” Bobby said, marching in a less than straight line to the kitchen.

 

“Fuck you.” Niall hissed. He cupped his swollen cheek in his hand as he shoved past his father and back towards the sanctuary of his bedroom. When he entered he retrieved his mobile from his mahogany computer desk, dialing a most familiar number.

 

“Hello love, what’s up?”  The Cheshire boy answered. His cheeky smile could practically be heard through the phone.

 

“Hey, mate,” Niall said quietly, “mind if I come over?” he asked, almost sadly,  and he could pretty much see the sympathetic smile that Harry always offered when Niall called this late. While the blonde boy waited for an answer he checked out the now angry and dark bruise that shadowed his left cheek.

 

“‘Course, mate,” Harry buzzed, undoubtedly fucked up already, “you alright?”

 

“Always am. Zayn’s place?”  Niall answered, maybe a bit too quickly. He began to lightly run his fingers over the bruise but quickly pulled back when he ran over a more sensitive area, wincing and cursing loudly. Harry paused for a second on the other line, as if contemplating what to say next before answering.

 

“Right. Yeah, Louis and I are already here with Dani. Liam and Eleanor should be here soon. We’ve

got everything, tonight we’re getting totally shitfaced.” Harry crowed, his cheeky smile seeming to radiate through the phone again. Niall loved that about Harry, he could so easily turn things from depressing to exciting and it always made Niall smile. Harry helped him forget. So he told his friend that he’d be over in 15 minutes and then tossed his mobile on his bed.

 

The bruise on his face throbbed and Niall probed at it again, immediately pulling away. As he did so he looked over the rest of his features. His eyes were still glassy and anxious, there was a worried crease between his brows, and his hair was a mess. A shaky hand combed through it, desperately trying to make it look somewhat decent.  The shirt he wore was crinkled as if it sat in the washer too long before being placed in the dryer. He pulled it off and he winced has his hand brushed his right side. Gritting his teeth, Niall ran his fingers over a nasty bruise that stretched from the bottom of his ribcage down below the waistband of his pants. His watery sapphire eyes examined the greenish yellow tint that made up some sections and the dark purple and black on others, as if it couldn’t decide when it wanted to heal.

 

Niall felt the threatening choke of sobs in the back of his throat and he took a deep sigh, refusing to allow himself to cry again. He shook his head.

 

 _Don’t be weak_ , he thought.

_Don’t let this break you._

 

Niall clenched his fists and reached for his shoes, sliding them on quickly before sliding out the door. Taking a short glance at his father as he passed by Niall groaned, looking at how his father had crashed on the couch. He scoffed disgustedly at the loud and annoying snore that left his father before sneaking quietly out the front door. A smile crept onto his face as the cool air swirled around him, calming the hot flesh on his upper cheek. The inflamed skin relished in the relief for a moment before he pulled out his phone and checked the time.  Realizing he was a bit late he quickened his pace.

During the 20 block walk to Zayns apartment he wondered if the boys would even ask him about the newest addition to his many bruises. They usually mentioned something, whether it was Liam asking if he “wanted to talk about it” or stating that if “anything was going on he’d know about it, right?”  Maybe a cheeky quip from Zayn “Nice one mate! I should see the other guy right?”

 

 Danielle had pulled him off to the side on more than one occasion asking if something was wrong, and he never said a word. Well, not a word that he admitted to, anyway. Drunken confessions don’t count. He sighed loudly, sort of glad that overall the boys didn’t really expect him to say much, and so he never did.

 

Niall continued weaving his way through the darkened streets, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets and walking a tad faster after seeing a group of sketchy looking hoodlums. He was relieved when Zayn’s complex came into view and he bounced up the path to the door. Not even to bothering to knock he barged in, laughing at what lay before him.

 

 His friends hadn’t even waited for him to get there before they begun, not that he minded. Niall greeted them loudly and smiled big, laughing again at how ridiculous his friends were. Zayn was laughing hysterically at something that had to be his own personal joke with himself, because nobody else was laughing, or even sitting near him… He was holding a burning spliff in one hand and a shot in the other; when Zayn went hard he really did go all out. Louis was hanging upside down on the couch, looking bored but also slightly amused as he watched Harry and Danielle. The pair simultaneously choked as they downed two shots in a row and Louis’ light and airy laugh was loud as Harry choked slightly and coughed out half a shot.

 

Finally Eleanor and Liam were sitting much too close to the TV screen, playing an intense game of Super Mario Bros on the Wii. Liam was undoubtedly sober, but he chuckled as Eleanor struggled to drink from an Absolut and keep her eyes on the game. It was only after Liams little Italian character finally died that he acknowledged Niall. He began to turn his head slowly, eyes still locked on the screen until almost the entire rotation was complete. When he finally reached Nialls face the boy smiled big, eyes squinting more than they did usually when he smiled.

 

Niall laughed heartily, giving an approving nod, “Thought you hated that game?”

 

“Shove off,” Liam half-joked, “where ya been?”  He asked, now smiling again. It seems that he just couldn’t stop smiling; Niall began to think that maybe Zayn finally peer pressured him into taking a hit of his spliff. But before Niall could ask Liam’s expression quickly changed as he took in the now prominent purple shadow that blanketed his usually blushed cheek.

 

“Just around, “Niall shrugged, giving a wry smile before plopping down next to a giggly Louis.

 

“Right… Of course, mate.” Liam smiled sadly back, reaching for an ashtray that held half of a joint. “Heads up, mate.”  He said, tossing it lightly towards Niall.

 

Niall grinned; it seemed that he was right after all. “Thought you didn’t like drugs?” Niall laughed, catching the joint in an open hand

 

Liam scoffed and jokingly glared at Zayn, “I don’t, I got pressured.”

 

“Bollocks!” Zayn groaned, tilting his head back on the couch and closing his eyes, “You love it.”

 

Niall shook his head and reached into the pocket of his chinos, searching for a lighter. Once he found it he placed the joint between his lips and lit the already charred end. He took a deep drag, loving the way the smoke slightly burned his throat and the way it curled in his chest. After he blinked his eyes a couple times everything was suddenly much funnier and he took another drag. He kept the smoke in his lungs for another few seconds before blowing it out in clean cloud-like puffs.

 

“Good shit.”  He stated, looking around the room, suddenly forgetting what he was talking about. He busted out laughing, laughing even harder when he realized he didn’t even know why he was laughing.

 

He grinned wide when a sloppy arm dropped around his shoulders, “Hey, love, How’s my favorite adorable little leprechaun doin’?” Harry was drunk. Very drunk and very naked, sans his tiny boxer shorts. Thinking that was the funniest thing he had ever seen, Niall laughs and laughs until tears are streaming down his face. After gaining control of himself he looked at Harry again before chuckling at his friend and taking another drag; he closed his eyes, letting it sink in thoroughly before re-opening them. He placed the spliff in Harry’s hand, trading for the bottle of Jaeger the curly headed boy held.

 

“No!”  Harry whined, making grabby hands at the bottle, “ S’mine!” His long arms began reaching over Nialls lap, attempting to get the bottle again before realizing he was given something that was equally as fun. Harry smiled approvingly to himself before he yanked at his friends lighter, quickly pulling it from his hand. The boy smiled smugly with deep dimples and proceeded to light himself up in a swift flick of his thumb. Niall chortled before taking a swig from the bottle.

 

The alcohol burned going down his throat, but it felt good and different than the burn of the smoke. He stood up on wobbly feet and headed towards Zayn who for some reason had begun to simultaneously spray cans of whipped cream and silly-string around the room. He tripped over his own feet, the coffee table, the other boys, Danielle, and even nothing as he did so. The dark-haired boy was praying the walls, pictures, and as he was spraying whipped cream into his mouth he caught sight of his friend. His hand raised in a clumsy wave and he smiled a goofy smile at Niall, revealing perfect white teeth. The Irish boy’s gut busted when the white cream began to drip from the corner of Zayn’s lips.

 

 “So weird, mate… So weird.”  Niall mused, pointing a finger at Zayn as he stole the can of whipped cream. By accident he sprayed a much too large squirt in his mouth. He choked and laughed at the same time, spitting the white glob on the ground and causing instant laughter from nearly everyone in the room.  Especially Louis. Who had been uncontrollably laughing for the past 20 minutes, his face was red and tears have yet to cease their constant flow down his face.  Louis then crawled from the couch and across the floor where he planted himself in Liam’s lap, suddenly quiet and tired. Liam just smiled and patted the boys hair.

  
 Niall was way passed gone, he had taken too many shots to count and smoked more than he should have. He was hardly in control of his own actions, and he didn’t really mind. He laughed when his body told him to, moved when he felt like it, and drank more and more and more. His brain seemed like nothing but a miniscule particle floating in the back of his head. His conscience hardly existed, and feelings didn’t either. He didn’t feel anything, not the depression, the angst, the loneliness, the fear, the anger, the pain.

 He couldn’t feel anything, and he loved it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please comment and let me know what you think. Ask questions, give criticism, whatever. This story is old from my tumblr(literally like two years old) and i'm slowly going through and attempting to kind of rewrite each chapter. But it's hard without changing the entire plot, which i've already sort of done.
> 
> Literally trying to make this story make sense is impossible and if someone would like to beta for me that would be amazing :)
> 
> check out my tumblr, doingitallwithyou, i have many more one shots posted there :)


	2. Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's secret it sort of a big one and he isn't sure how much longer he can keep it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.

Harry woke up that next morning with a full blown hangover. Not the kind that goes away when you take a few painkillers. No. The kind where your head pounds and your stomach aches and when any sort of light reaches your eyes you just want to crawl into a hole and die.

That kind of hangover.

 He propped himself up on one elbow, surveying the room. Louis was lying flat on his stomach in the middle of the room, a pretty good sized puddle of spittle forming just below his mouth. Zayn was trapped between Niall and the back cushion of the couch, spooning his side with one arm wrapped loosely around the small blonde boy’s waist. Niall had nearly fallen off the sofa, the entire right side of his body lay on a slant and his foot rested on the ground to support his body. Danielle curled into the corner of the couch with Zayn’s feet resting across her lap. Her head tilted back and her mouth opened slightly; she still held an empty bottle of vodka in her hand. Eleanor was settled in the large bean-bag chair, her mobile loose in her manicured fingers.  Liam was nowhere to be seen. That led Harry to believe he had already gotten up and began either one, making food for everyone, or two, cleaning the shit-wreck of a house.  

Harry blinked against the sunlight that was seeping through the blinds and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand before looking down at himself. Somehow he had also ended up on the ground, but more importantly, where in God’s name did his clothes go? He laid his face in his hands again, rubbing his temples as if to just massage the killer headache out. When he removed his hand he noticed a black smudge spread across his palm.

“What the fuck?” He mumbled to himself, looking back up at his friends. Taking a closer look, he noticed that neither of them had the same black smudge that he did. He pushed himself off the ground and went to the bathroom to investigate what was on his own face.

 

He walked quickly to the bathroom and flicked on the light, blinking away the tears from the sudden brightness, he looked at his reflection.

**SLUT**

 

That is what was written on Harry. In big, bold, capital letters. The way his heart wrenched made him feel as if he were going to be sick. His hands started to shake and he tried with all his might not to cry as he turned the faucet on. Cold water splashed on his face and he scrubbed and scrubbed until his forehead was red and irritated but _clean_. Leaning against the countertop he stared into his own emerald eyes. 

 

 _You’re a slut_ , _Styles_. The voice in his head said.  _Everyone knows it. Everyone knows you like it_. The voice taunted.

 

Harry rubbed his eyes again, turning the light off and heading back to the other room. He picked a pillow off of the ground and threw it violently at Niall, causing the Irish lad to flail awake and fall to the ground with a grumble and a thump. Zayn and Danielle were disturbed by the sudden movement and slowly awoke, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and yawning in unison. Harry wandered over to Louis, nudging him in the side until he saw the deep ocean of blue squint from beneath his long lashes.

 

“Morning Lou. Have a nice night?” The Cheshire boy smiled, nudging Louis once more before settling himself on the ground again, leaning back on his arms with his legs crossed and trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped.

 

“ ‘Course, bet we all did right?” Louis smiled a goofy grin at the rest of the group as he pulled himself up, straightening his top. A cumulative mix of agreements and groans came from the hung over group.

 

“Haz, what’s wrong with your head?”  The Irish boy asked quietly, curiosity and what seemed to be a mix of fear and worry oozed from his voice. Harry craned his neck to look at the blonde boy who stared back with irritatingly bright blue eyes.

 

“Yeah, it looks all red and swollen and stuff.” Zayn said, climbing off the couch to run gentle fingers over Harry’s forehead, frowning deeply as the boy pulled away.

 

Harry tried to brush it off and smile, “It’s nothing,” Niall gave him a look and tried to speak up but Harry cut him off, “really. I had some weird shit there and I washed it off. No big deal.”

 

The smile Harry had drawn on his face was so forced that it physically hurt Louis to look at it. It was so fake and Harry’s dimples weren’t there and his eyes looked so _sad_ as he met them with his own. Louis wanted to say something, he wanted to say something so badly. But Harry’s eyes pleaded with him not to, and Louis nodded. Hoping that maybe Harry would open up to him later.

 

Liam entered the room carrying a plate of pancakes and he immediately met Harry’s gaze and something felt wrong. When Harry looked into those giant brown eyes he felt that Liam knew something, that he had seen it. And by the way Liam’s pink lips pursed into a sad line, Harry knew that Liam saw it. It made Harry feel small. It made him feel dirty and he felt that Liam could see right through him. He wished that Liam would just forget. But he doesn’t forget, and Harry knew that sometime later that Liam would corner him and he would have to talk about it.

 

“Mornin, Payno.” Louis grinned, nearly tackling the other boy to get first dibs on the pancakes. “How’d you sleep?”

 

Liam tore his eyes away from Harry and let a fake smile appear on his face, “Not very well, _one_ of you wankers snores very loud.” And by the way he halfheartedly glared at Niall it was obvious who he was talking about.

 

Everyone laughed and Harry tried to laugh, too. He really did. But his heart hurt and his brain was all jumbled up and now that he thought about it he may have scrubbed his skin too hard. So he sat silently, poking at a plate of food and occasionally looking up.

 

“Harry, babe,” Eleanor suddenly says, “why does it look like someone wrote on your face?”

 

His heart dropped into his stomach and he stares doe eyed at her, “Wh-what?”

 

Eleanor slides next to him and grabs his face in her hands, “There. It was all red, but now it’s not and it looks like it says… _oh_.”

 

Harry shoves her away and runs to the bathroom, locking the door quickly and sliding down to the floor. He couldn’t breathe. The air was trapped in his lungs and he couldn’t breathe. There were knocks and bangs at the door and his friends were yelling for him and he couldn’t _breathe._

“Harry! Harry open the fucking door!” Zayn swore, banging loudly and swearing again with worry.

 

An audible slap echoed through the door and Zayn wailed, as if someone had hit him, “Don’t fucking yell at him, you’ll just freak him out more!” Niall hissed.

 

“Open the door, love.” Danielle whispered, her voice soft and sweet and comforting; like cream and sugar. Harry finally took a deep breath and stood up, looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and watery and his curls a mess. The outline of the writing was faded but obvious and he scrubbed it again. He wanted to scrub the flesh off and leave it bloody and bloody and bloody but then the door swings open and Zayn is barreling in. He pulls Harry out and holds him tight, whispering to him to relax because he was going to hurt himself.

 

Harry struggled in Zayn’s arms and tried to claw himself free, “It doesn’t matter!” he wailed, “It doesn’t fucking matter! I don’t matter…”

 

“What are you on about?” Niall asked quietly, actually seeming somewhat afraid of what was happening. He looked to Liam, hoping to get an answer. Harry tries not to notice Liam whispering to Niall and he tries to ignore the way Niall looks at him. As if with sympathy, before he himself starts screaming.

 

Niall shoves Zayn away from Harry, almost throwing him to the floor, and he eyes the entire group, “Who the fuck would do that to him?” he quiets and looks down sadly, “Why would someone do that…”

 

Nobody answers and Harry wipes his eyes, “Listen, I’m fine. It’s fine, okay? M’alright.” He tries to smile and this time everyone believes him. Except they don’t. But they move on to share stories of the night before, laughing at the tiny bit of memory that they all had.

 

“Liam I can’t believe you smoked,” Danielle giggled, tugging her fingers through her neat curls. “never thought I’d see the day.”

 

Zayn chuckled as he weaseled in between Niall and Liam on the small couch, “Don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat so much in one sitting, either.”

 

Harry laughed when everyone else did and smiled when someone looked at him and he played it off, because to most of them it wasn’t true. But to one of them, to one of his best mates, it was true. One of them thought he was a slut but Harry realized everyone was either too stoned or too drunk to even remember who had done it. He couldn’t imagine any of them ever even thinking of that, let alone blowing it up in front of anyone. And the worst part was that he wasn’t a slut at all. He had never willingly slept with anyone; the thought sent a shudder through Harry. He couldn’t even stand it. And it wasn’t fair; he was being judged for things that were out of his control. Did people think he liked the way older women touched him? The way they winked and looked at him when nobody was looking? Do they think he liked the way his step-father touched him? Abused him?

 

 Of course they wouldn’t think that. They wouldn’t think any of that, if they knew the truth. But they don’t.

 

 Nobody does.

 

“So… Um has anybody seen my clothes?” Harry finally laughed a little, suddenly realizing that he never got dress and looking at his friends through his curls. He was actually genuinely curious as to where he had tossed his top and his pants. His legs were wobbly but he got himself up once again and began searching. Jeans were on the ceiling fan and his shirt stuck in the microwave and he dressed quickly, walking back to join his friends. He overheard their conversation and stopped in his tracks to listen.

 

“Don’t you think we should figure out who did that to him?” Danielle asked the group, eyes anxious and pleading.

 

“I don’t get was the big deal is, though,” Zayn mumbled, “he isn’t even a slut, so why does it even bloody matter?”

 

Louis scoffed loudly, “Did you see the way he freaked out? Something about what happened bothered him real bad and nobody seems to care!”

 

“He did look pretty upset…” Niall whispered, voice muffled by a joint between his lips.

 

“Look upset?” Louis hissed again, “He locked himself in the fucking bathroom, I think he was more than upset.” 

 

Harry felt so small and embarrassed as he reentered the room; all eyes were on him.

The group fell silent and it was awkward and Harry wanted to crawl away and thankfully Liam broke the silence, standing up and stretching as he spoke, “I think it’s time to head home,” he said, “Niall you needed a lift, yeah?” The blonde boy nodded and gently moved Danielle’s legs from his lap and followed behind Liam. Niall stopped dead in his tracks as if remembering something he forgot; he turned around quickly to whisper in Harry’s ear, “You’re not a slut, mate. We know it.” He smiles and gives Harry a pat on the back.

 

He can’t help but grin back as Niall leaves; he allows Danielle to hug him before she follows them out the door, suddenly deciding she was heading home as well. The three friends said their goodbyes and left, slamming the door much louder than necessary and disturbing Harry’s dormant hangover. Louis, he, and obviously Zayn, were still there and sitting in silence for a good 10 minutes after Danielle had left.

 

 Louis finally spoke out and broke the silence to ask Harry if he would like a ride home. The boy swiftly pulled his old TOMs on and grabbed his keys from the drawer of a small cabinet next to the door.

 

“Naw, that’s alright, I think I’ll walk.” Harry replied distantly, staring out the window.

 

“You sure, mate? It’s a bit cold, and it’s pretty far…” The Doncaster boy pressed.

 

“ I’m sure, Lou, thanks.”

 

And with that and a slightly irritated groan, Louis was also gone. Zayn splayed himself out along the rest of the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels on the television and grunting when he couldn’t find a decent show to watch. Harry knew he should leave; his mum, if she were home, would be wondering where he was by now and he desperately needed to take a shower. But he was terrified, he hadn’t told Robin he was leaving and he didn’t want to know what awaited him went he walked through that door. Pushing all of those thoughts aside he followed the lead others and headed out, tossing a wave over his shoulder to a half-awake Zayn. He stepped outside into the comfortably cool air, realizing that it had to be nearly mid-day.

“Fuck.” He cursed, pushing his curls back and walking faster through the streets. His house wasn’t too far of a walk--probably around 10 minutes. Harry reached his front door in less than that and shakily turned the door-knob, poking his head in before entering with his whole body. It was eerily silent as he crept up the stairs, he slid into the bathroom and turned the lock before letting out a puff of relieved air. He stripped off his shirt and kicked his pants off and headed towards the shower.

 

The water was scalding when he turned it on, but he let it run over his body anyways. Delaying as long as he could he washed his hair twice and spent what seemed like hours washing his body and just standing beneath the head until the water became cold. Tiny droplets of water flew in every direction as he shook his hair, attempting to dry it a bit before wrapping a towel around his waist and slinking towards his own room. He had painted the walls a very dark blue, although hardly any of it was visible considering he covered almost every inch of the place with posters, drawings, signs and anything else he thought was funny or just cool. Harry retrieved his favorite grey sweatpants from his dresser and threw on a plain white t-shirt before placing his beloved beanie over his head.

 

He walked a few steps and fell backwards on his bed, closing his eyes and drawing in a small breath. He was strangely calm, in a deep serenity of some sort. His mind was clear; he really had no thoughts and not a care in the world, just silence. He sank into is bed, a small smirk playing on his lips as his green eyes stayed closed. But sooner than later the curly haired boy was pulled from his haven as his door flew open. His eyes opened wide, the green changing from a calm emerald to a scared and anxious glassy form of what they were. He looked at the man leaning in the doorway with arms crossed loosely over his chest; the man was angry in the face, tall, clean-shaven, dressed in a casual polo and jeans.

 

This was Robin. And he looked furious.

 

“Where the fuck were you last night?” He questioned, glaring daggers into Harrys eyes.

 

“I was with my friends… Louis, Liam… The lot.” Harry said quietly, pursing his lips together and leaning his head down, allowing his face to be covered by his hair.

 

“You didn’t tell your mother or me. And do you know what time it is? 3 in the fucking afternoon, you didn’t even have the decency to give either of us a call?” His step-father shouted, closing the bedroom door and flicking the lock before taking loud and angry steps towards the bed.

 

“I- It’s not a big deal, I’m home now…” Harry mumbled, trying to clear his throat and remove the fear from his voice.

 

“You’re a little prick. You know that?” Rob hissed, closing in on Harry. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of his white t-shirt, using the leverage to force Harry down on the bed as he stood over him.

 

Harry closed his eyes, a single tear sliding down his temple and into his hairline as he felt a familiar hand wander over along his chest and down his long torso. A small sob broke from his lips as a hard hand collided with his cheek, leaving an angry outline of five fingers across his face. He wriggled against the iron grip on his arm and pulled himself away, rolling quickly off of the bed he attempted to make it to the door.

 

“Oh c’mon boy. We all know you like it. We all know little Harry Styles is a slut.” Robin said, spitting the last word and grabbing Harry by the collar to push him back on the bed. He twisted the seventeen year olds body around so that his face was pressed into the mattress. Harry squeezed his eyes closed again, burying his face in the comforter as his sweatpants fall to the ground. Goosebumps littered his body as the chilly air hit his exposed skin and he winced at the familiar feeling of two strong hands on his hips. Robin squeezed Harry’s bum with one hand and smacked him with the other, laughing at the tiny sob that Harry released.

 

“Say it,” Robin breathed, prodding his hole with one chubby finger, “say you’re a little slut who loves getting his pretty little arse fucked.”

 

Harry shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut tighter and wincing at the burning pain as Robin slowly shoved his finger inside.

 

A harsh smack to his bum pushed Harry farther up the bed, “I said say it. Beg me to fuck your faggot arse” The man seethed, shoving his finger faster and rougher into him, relishing in the broken cries coming from the boy.

 

“I-I’m a slut,” Harry sobbed loudly as a second finger pushed inside him, then another until three fingers were fucking him into the mattress, “p-please fuck my arse.”

 

Robin laughed darkly and thrusted his hand harder, shoving Harry farther up the bed, “If you say so.”

 

He pulled his digits from Harrys body, not giving the boy any time to feel relieved as he lined his cock up and shoved in and mercilessly began pounding into Harry.  He did scream. He sobbed and he cursed and begged for someone to help him. Even if he knew nobody was home to hear him, he screamed for someone to please _God_ help him. As Robin slid two fingers in beside his cock and stretched Harry raw and fucked him until he felt the blood on his thighs Harry begged for help. It seemed like hours to him, for all he knows it had been hours. His throat was raw from screaming and he was completely drained of all energy. Harry hardly even noticed when Robin finally pulled out and left him alone. He could still feel him there, inside him. He couldn’t get away from the pain. Harry curled onto his side and pulled his duvet around him, bawling into his pillow. Aching in strange places he didn’t even know he could ache, he felt the new bruises forming.

 

He sobbed himself to into a restless sleep.

 

A couple hours later he was startled awake by the loud ringer of his mobile, which still laid in the pocket of his trackies. He groaned and winced at the sharp pain shooting from his bum and up his spine and back down his thighs as he reached for it. Liam was calling and Harry had half a mind to ignore the call, but he knew that if he did that Liam would keep calling.

 

“Haz, I’m outside! Let’s go!” Liam chirped in his ear. Harry rubbed his eyes, switching to a standing position to relieve the pain. He realized it sucked just as bad and took back to his spot on the bed.

 

He grimaced uncomfortably again before finally replying. “I dunno mate, I’m a bit busy…” Harry trailed off, glancing at the blood stain on his sheets.

 

“Bullshit!” Niall shouted from the background, there was a minute of struggling and shouting coming from the other end before Niall took over the phone. “C’mon Harry we all know that’s shit, we’re going down to the pub, sounds fun yeah?” Niall mused before shouting something along the lines of shut the fuck up in the background. The others were all undoubtedly squeezed into Liam’s small SUV.

 

“I really don’t know, mate” Harry almost whimpered, realizing that he couldn’t walk straight without a limp. Niall and everyone else began begging him to come, and he thought maybe being around his mates would make him feel better. “Yeah, alright.” He said, smiling at the chorus of cheers.

 

He thought about just sneaking out the window, but thought better of it, deciding he wanted to avoid another encounter later tonight.

 

“ Hurry up then, mate!.” Niall said back before the line went dead.

 

Harry tore his sheets off of the bed and shoved them in his hamper and then decided to head downstairs, hoping his mum would be down there instead of Robin. And lucky for him, she walked in the door about two seconds after he planted his feet on the ground floor.

 

“Hi, love! How’ve you been?” Anne asked Harry, giving him a quick kiss on the forehead.

 

“Great mum, I’ve been great.” Harry lied through his teeth, hoping she wouldn’t notice the limp as he walked.

 

“Lovely.” She smiled genuinely, setting her things down on the kitchen table.

 

“Can I go out? With everyone?” Harry blurted out, hands curled around the back of one of the chairs placed at the table.

 

“Of course, baby. Is it safe to assume that everyone includes… Oh shoot what are their names, there’s Liam and Louis. Oh Louis what a charmer, eh? And then the one with the dark hair, that’s Zayn right? Oh my and then the little blonde one, he’s Irish right? Too cute he is. Are the girls going? Danielle and Eleanor they are? Oh they’re so lovely, Harry.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as his mother rambled on about his friends.

 

“Yes, mum.” He said.

 

“Brilliant, well give me a call later if you’re not coming home, yeah? Love you Harry!” She called to the boy who was already out of the room.

 

“ ‘Course mum! Love you too.”  He called over his shoulder, slamming the door behind him..


	3. Liam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam just sort of feels sad all the time and he decided to make himself feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.

After a long night out at the pub, Liam was driving his drunken friend’s home, as usual.

Louis had been chirping in Liam’s ear the whole ride home, ranting on and on about a bloke at the pub who was _definitely_ checking him out.

 

“She was old enough to be your mum, Lou.” Liam said tiredly, batting the older boy away and grinning up at Niall in the rearview mirror as the boy laughed loudly. It’s moments like these when he really loved his mates, when everyone was happy and slightly drunk.

 

“Could you guys like, shut the fuck up for like two seconds, Christ.” Eleanor slurred, trying to type a message on her phone.

 

“El, why do you even bother with that prat. You could be havin’ all of this.” Zayn said mock-seductively, pulling away from Harry and wiggling into her lap.

 

“Well maybe if we could pull your mirror away from you for more than 10 seconds shit’d be different, mate.” Niall snorted from the other side of Harry, causing a simultaneous laugh from everyone in car. Niall looked extremely proud of himself for making the group laugh and sat back in his seat grinning drunkenly, eyes sagging slightly with drowsiness.

 

“Very true.” Zayn grinned, sliding off of Eleanor’s lap and back into his own seat, “But that just means you should feel even more special.”

 

 Liam sighed; he couldn’t wait to drop them all off, it had been a legitimate week of non-stop drinking and partying. And he usually didn’t mind but lately he’s just been feeling different. There was always this strange, dark cloud in the back of his mind that swarmed made his head hurt and made him feel cold. A pain in his stomach he couldn’t explain followed him everywhere. Not a physical pain, something deeper. He just wasn’t feeling like himself, and frankly he wanted a bit of time to calm down.

 

Time to just relax.

 

So after waving goodbye to Harry and Louis, having dropped off the others already, Liam watched the younger boy hop behind the slender boy and he let out a small sigh of relief. Turning the steering wheel and heading back in the direction of his own home. It was a pretty short drive and when he pulled into the driveway he noticed that only one light in the whole place was turned on, which was his little sisters room.

“Damn it, mum” He hissed, rubbing his face with his hands. He reached the front door quickly, sliding the key in and swiftly pushing the door open.

 

“Ruth! Ruthie I’m home!” He yelled up the stairs, a bright grin reaching his face when a tiny brunette girl of only 10 years old bounded down the stairs and into his arms. Her little hands hooked around his neck and she pressed her head into his chest.

“Liam you’re late. Mummy hasn’t even been up yet and I’m starving!” She whined in his ear. His heart sunk with guilt, lowering his sister to the ground in front of him before squatting and placing his hands on her frail shoulders. He tried not to look into her eyes and he tried not to let his hands tremble with the anger he felt.

 

“I’m very sorry about that…” He started, looking into her sad Hershey eyes, “what would you like to eat? Anything you want and I’ll make it for ya.” He promised, sliding his large hand into her much smaller one.

 

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping a tiny, mindless finger against her chin, “how about, ice cream!” She grinned.

 

“Nice try, babe, how about we go look at what we’ve got, yeah?” He replied, standing up. The small girl pouted and nodded her head in defeat. She pursued Liam into the kitchen, checking the cupboards and the fridge for something to make. They settled on making their own personal pizza, quickly pulling the supplies from their spots on shelves and displaying them on the countertop. They probably spent more time decorating the pizza, yes decorating, than actually enjoying the way it tasted. But after Ruth was fed and laying down on the couch in the family room, Liam felt the dark cloud creep back up. He had been washing the dishes when it snuck up on him, completely taking over his mind, pushing every happy thought out. He looked down at the large knife he was washing, holding it up in front of him

 

. **Just do it. Just do it.** The voice in his head said.

 

His arm worked on its own, slowly pulling the knife closer to his flesh. The knife had lightly brushed his skin when the sound of little feet entering the room startled him. His eyes re-focused and landed on the knife, widening with confusion and worry.

“Jesus Christ…” He whispered, dropping the object back into the soapy water and turning around, placing his fingers at the bridge of his nose.

 

“I’m gonna go to bed… Will you come tuck me in?” The child asked with eyes full of sleep.

 

“Of course… Yeah, just… Just head up, I’ll be there in a sec.” He replied, slowly closing his eyes and leaning against the sink. He ran a shaky hand through his semi-curls, breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly. What the fuck was that? Was I going to hurt myself? He questioned, prodding his brain. No, of course not. That’s ridiculous. His own calm voice replied. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and reached his hand down into the sudsy water to pull the drainage plug, deciding to finish the rest later on. He continued out of the kitchen, which led to the foyer and the stairs, and headed up. He entered Ruthie’s room and planted a quick kiss on her forehead before whispering a quiet ‘goodnight’ and ‘I love you **.’**  Liam retreated from his sister’s room and was back out in the hallway again.

He glanced at his mother’s door, closed tightly with no light seeping through the crack at the bottom. He debated going on his way or checking up on his mum. He gave himself a small push and opened the door, eyes adjusting quickly in the darkness.

 

“Liam? Is that you?” A small voice moaned from the bed.

 

“Yeah, mum it’s me.” He smiled although she couldn’t see him in the dark.

 

“Turn on the light, please.” She croaked, trying to clear her throat before a coughing fit began. Liam flicked the light on and slid over to the bed, sitting down awkwardly next to his mum who turned her laying position to face him. He looked into her stone-grey eyes, finding nothing but emptiness with a hint of despair. Liam looked down sadly, taking another breath before looking back at his mum.

 

“You didn’t get up today…” Liam said, his tone hard. “Ruth didn’t eat until I got home, mum.”

 

“I know… Liam…” She began, sitting up, “I just-“

 

“You can’t _just_ anything. She’s only ten years old! She needs somebody to look after her and God damn it, it shouldn’t have to be me  _all the time_ **.”**  His voice turned pleading at the end of his sentence. He looked again into his mother’s eyes, searching for some sort of feeling or remorse, anything. “You’re our mum… You need to start acting like it, because I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.”

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sick Liam, you know that. I need you to help us, to help me, to help _Ruthie_.” Karen replied vaguely. Liam shook his head and stood up, straightening his shirt.

 

“Goodnight, mum.” He said bluntly, walking to the door and turning off the light before shutting it behind him. He entered the bathroom and shut the door softly, twisting the lock. He sat down on the cool tile and placed his head in his hands, sucking in shaky breaths and rocking slightly. The voice was back, intimidating and harsh, immediately giving him orders he felt like he had no choice but to follow. Tears began to stream down his face as he lunged for the cupboard beneath the sink; he searched through it, looking for a pair of small sharp scissors that he knew was hiding in there somewhere. When he reappeared the shining object was trapped tightly in his palm. He leaned back against the wall again. He took a few deep breathes before closing his eyes and pulling up the sleeve on his left arm with a shaky hand, exposing the lightly tanned skin. The scissors were sharp and with a deep breath they made contact with his skin, tears now flowing in a constant river. He pressed down harder, watching as little droplets of blood formed on over top of the straight-cut line. Why doesn’t this _hurt_? He wondered. Why don’t I feel anything? He questioned, pressing the sharp metal to his arm again, closing his eyes, this time he did feel something. It wasn’t pain, reliefwas a better word. The dark cloud drained out of him with the blood leaving the wounds; He felt like he could properly have a laugh and smile again. He felt like himself. He opened his eyes and looked down. His arm now had five 2 inch long cuts running down his arm, each of them had started bleeding. He didn’t make any move to get up, he just watched the small stream of blood travel down his skin. Liam knew the cuts weren’t deep, he wouldn’t be that stupid, and this wasn’t even going to be a regular thing anyways. 

 

Right?

 

He pushed the thoughts away from his mind and stood up to the sink, turning the faucet on and grabbing a towel. He wet the tip and wiped the blood from his skin, leaving a small crimson tint in its wake. He looked away from his arm and into the mirror, into his own eyes. He saw small orbs of chocolate, glistening underneath the harsh bathroom light. He couldn’t decipher what lay behind them. Sadness, anger…Depressed...Was he? Is he just now realizing this? Would that possibly explain the blackness he felt allthe time?

 

He couldn’t end up like his mother, he couldn’t. That’s why she’s always in bed, because she’s depressed. She neglects her children because she is depressed. But as he thinks about it more and more, it all makes sense. It really did, and it terrified him that he was now justifying how his mum could ever ignore her kids. But most of all he didn’t want to get as bad as her; he didn’t want to go days without human contact or get that empty look in his own eyes or lay in bed every day. But he also felt like he couldn’t tell anyone, not after what he did tonight; they would think he was crazy.

 

He lowered himself back onto the chilled tiles, pulling his knees to his chest. Out of every thought he had, one terrified him the most. It was the voice in the back of his head that kept repeating over and over again, the same thing.

 

_Just one cut, all the pain is gone. Just one cut. One more._

 

Liam let tears fall freely from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks and dripping off his chin and onto his knees. His body shook with silent sobs and he gasped for air, trying to gain control again. He doesn’t exactly know how long he sat on the floor of his bathroom crying, but he can take a guess and say a pretty long while. He shakily stood himself up and looked in the mirror one more time, taking in his red eyes and puffy face. He looked at his arm and eyed the dried blood and sighed. Liam turned the light off and walked into his room. As he plopped down on his bed he looked at the clock, casually wondering what time it was.

**2:02 AM**

 

It wasn’t that late, but it was definitely too far into the night to go out again. So he settled for changing into a pair of sweats and climbing into bed, pulling his phone to his face and realizing that he had messages that he never checked. Three were from Niall, one from Harry, a missed call from Eleanor, and a voicemail from Zayn. He clicked the ‘open’ key next to Niall’s messages and read each of them.

**N: Liaamm, li yum, yum yum LIAM**

**N: MAATE ANSWER ME!!!11!**

**N: Shit sorry mate lol, sober now, promise . x**

Liam couldn’t help but laugh at his friend as he typed a response.

**L: Drunk Niall makes me laugh**

**N: Good ;) hittin the sack, txt me tomoro to do something, yeah?**

**L: yup, see ya. xx**

 

Liam laughed again at Niall before placing his phone on his nightstand, not bothering to check the rest of his alerts. His head felt a lot clearer than it did earlier, and he was pretty exhausted.

So when he closed his eyes sleep came quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please comment and let me know what you think. Ask questions, give criticism, whatever. This story is old from my tumblr(literally like two years old) and i'm slowly going through and attempting to kind of rewrite each chapter. But it's hard without changing the entire plot, which i've already sort of done.
> 
> Literally trying to make this story make sense is impossible and if someone would like to beta for me that would be amazing :)


	4. Danielle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danielle's life pretty much is perfect... except it isn't and suddenly everything really sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.

 

“You’re a menacing prick!”  A shrill voice shrieked from the kitchen.

 

“And you’re a patronizing  _bitch_.”  A deeper voice spat back.

 

Danielle sighed and flipped to the next page of her magazine, turning up the volume on her music player. She usually did just this any time her parents decided to fight; she’d just go hide up in her room until the shouting match was over, and then she’d emerge to assess the damage. She’s become quite use to it, really. But one thing she would never get use to would be pretending as if nothing was wrong. She knew her mother was looked at as a highly respectable woman amongst the others in the community, and her father was one of the professors at the college her and her friends attended. So she couldn’t just go around acting as if her family was anything but perfect. She continued to turn the pages of her magazine for a few more minutes, not reading or really looking at the pictures before deciding to see what the bickering was about this time.

 

She trotted down the steps, surprised when she didn’t hear profanities being shouted back and forth. She tiptoed towards the kitchen entrance, listening to the intense whispering that was being tossed throughout the room.

“I  _know_ there is someone else, Jon. You can’t honestly think I believe you’re staying at the college late for  _meetings_.” Her mother spat, her voice stern and even.

“You have officially gone insane, Patty! You honestly think I would do this to you? To Danielle? You’ve gone mad!”  He whispered back, more intense and pleading than Dani has ever heard him. Danielle’s heart sunk as she listened to the snippet of the conversation. Did her mum really truly believe her father was having an affair? Her bottom lip quivered and she struggled to keep the tears from falling as she listened harder.

“What else am I supposed to think? You’re never home anymore, and when you are you do absolutely _nothing_! You hardly even look at me or your own daughter!” Her mother snapped, voice rising.

“Patty please don’t- Danielle will hear…”  Her father’s smooth voice pleaded again.

 

“Hear what? That her father is a cheating deadbeat? You don’t want her to hear that, Jon?”  She laughed bitterly, lowering her voice by just a smidge. They both looked up instantly when they heard the front door slam. Her father placed his head in his hands and her mother shook her head before walking out of the room. Danielle just didn’t want to hear any more of that conversation, so she had grabbed her bag and left. She pulled her cardigan tighter around her body against the cool air, keeping her head down as she walked through her neighborhood. 

 

It’s not true. She told herself. It’s not true. 

 

But that didn’t stop the tears from falling down her flawless cheeks; she slowly wiped them away before turning the corner towards the pub her and her friends visited. Her body became less tense as the air around her switched from chilly to comfortably warm and she headed for a small table in the back.

 

She placed her bag down next to her and rested each of her elbows on the table. She felt that she really should call up El or one of the guys to meet her there, just to save her from her own thoughts, but she made no move to retrieve her phone. Instead she let her mind wander, thinking about her parents, the possibilities of an affair, a divorce… Then she started to think about Harry and that night at Zayn’s. She wondered why Harry would take it so personally and then she wondered which one of them would even do that to him in the first place. Her brows knitted together in confusion as she tied her wild-curls in a neat bun atop her head, smoothing out the stay hairs that have escaped and now framed her face.

 

 “Well fancy seeing you here, eh?”  A smooth Irish accent floated into her ears and she smiled lightly following the blonde boy with her deep eyes as he took a seat across from her.

 

“Hey, Nialler. And yeah it is, what brought you here on this beautiful afternoon?’  Danielle asked, resting her chin in her delicate hands.

 

“Day drinking, of course! What the hell else is there to do on a Sunday?”  He grinned back, waving a hand in the air for a moment before a waitress appeared at their table.

 

“Hello, darling. What can I do ya for?”  The waitress asked, winking at Niall. He blushed very obviously and looked at Danielle, trying to ignore the fact that the bird was checking him out.

“Want anything?”  He asked timidly, cheeks still red.

 Danielle eyed the waitress almost territorially, “Oh, no I don’t think so.”  She responded, shaking her head.

“Okay so that’s a pitcher of beer, yeah? And keep ‘em comin.”  Niall smiled at Danielle, throwing his head back and letting out a laugh when she glared. She hadn’t been planning on drinking at all today, but when the beer arrived she couldn’t help herself..

 

“Danielle, mate you need to slow down. Going to get yourself fucking sick you are.” Niall probed, still working on just his second glass of beer. He slowed himself down when he saw the pace of Danielle, knowing she was going to be more than shit-faced and it wouldn’t do either of them any good if he followed her lead.

 

“Niall don’t be silly! I’m perfectly fine right now, mkay?”  She giggled, her head lolling to the side slightly. She really had no idea what was going on; Niall was just a blur of movements and she was almost positive that her brain had turned to mush by now.

 

“That’s bullshit. Cutting you off… right… now.” Niall purred slowly, gently pulling the glass from Danielle’s hand and sliding the pitcher away. He looked at her, wondering why she was acting this way. While he knew this wasn’t the first time she’s ever gotten this wasted he wondered why she was being so irresponsible. He knew that they all had a huge sociology exam tomorrow, and he was positive that she was also aware of this. This means that something had to have triggered her to act like this.

 

“Dani, what’s going on? You aren’t acting like yourself.”  Niall felt stupid saying that, of course she wasn’t acting like herself, she was drunk as all hell. “I mean, why are you being so fucking… weird? You’re sorta freaking me out, yeah?”  He added, leaning over the table to look at her.  She had turned her head to meet his gaze with bloodshot eyes and a woozy smile.

 

“Silly boy I’m just having fun! Partying and not giving a fuck, isn’t that what you wanted to do?”  She slurred through her drunken smile. Niall shook his head lightly and tried again.

                

“Okay cut the shit. What’s wrong? Just tell me, please.” His blue eyes plead with hers, and she gave an over-exaggerated sigh in response. Niall shook his head again before standing up and turning his back to her. Danielle looked up quickly to see her blonde friend leaving and let out a small puff of sad air.

 

“My dad… he- he might be cheating on my mum.” She whispered, staring blankly at the table.

 

Niall stopped in his tracks and turned around, sliding next to her in the booth. He placed a comforting arm around her and she leaned her head into his shoulder.

                

“I’m sorry… I really had no idea…”  He began, only to be cut off by her breathy sobs. His eyes widened and he wrapped his arms around her as she continued on.

               

 “I-I don’t want them to get a divorce Niall. But they fight so often, I just don’t know anymore.”  She sobbed again. The drunken slur had left her voice, but Niall still wasn’t convinced that she would have any recollection of this confession. He continued to comfort her with reassuring whispers and he lightly rubbed her back. He felt almost awkward, he wasn’t used to comforting people like this. And he was receiving a few strange looks from other pub-goers.

 

“Oi, Danielle, I think we should get you home. Get some rest and stuff.” Niall said quietly, loosening his grip on her. She smiled up at him, wiping her face and nodding. Although she knew she was pretty drunk she was actually glad that her confession had been made to Niall, as he was a surprisingly good listener. She followed behind him as he slid out of the booth, her feet wobbled beneath her and she struggled slightly to walk in a straight line.

                

“Okay, c’mere.” Niall laughed, gesturing to his back before kneeling down. Danielle let out a small chuckle before taking the offer, climbing quickly onto her Irish friends back. They headed out of the pub and travelled in silence for nearly the entire distance. It wasn’t an awkward silence; it was more of a content and understanding silence. Neither of them minded. They reached Danielle’s home and she slid clumsily off of his back. Niall sighed at the relief his back felt and looked back at Dani, eyeing her questioningly.

               

 “You’re gonna be alright now, right? Just head up to bed?”  He asked, his light eyes sparkling.

                

“‘Course, thanks love.”  She said with a smile, wrapping her arms around him in a quick embrace. “See ya.”

               

“Don’t forget to study for sociology!”  He called over his shoulder as he headed back towards his house. Oh shit. Was what Danielle thought, she had totally spaced on their exam. Well either that or she just plain and simple stopped caring. She laughed and she mentally threw that into her never-ending pile of problems. Fuck it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please comment and let me know what you think. Ask questions, give criticism, whatever. This story is old from my tumblr(literally like two years old) and i'm slowly going through and attempting to kind of rewrite each chapter. But it's hard without changing the entire plot, which i've already sort of done.
> 
> Literally trying to make this story make sense is impossible and if someone would like to beta for me that would be amazing :)
> 
> Also there will be a pairing(s) within the next few chapters! x


	5. Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is gay and apparently that's a problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.
> 
> check out my tumblr, doingitallwithyou, for more one shots and stuff! :)

Louis lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, watching as party, and he still the fan repeatedly made its rounds. The early morning light seeped through his windows and caressed his face. He was exhausted and he felt like every bone in his body was broken, that his heart was broken. Louis couldn’t stop thinking about what he found yesterday. It was a note in his pocket, and scrawled on the tattered piece of paper was _faggot;_ Louis was used to other people using derogatory terms against him and it usually didn’t faze him at all. He found it stuffed in his books after one of his classes and for some reason it was just eating away at him. Nothing like this ever bothered him before and he couldn’t shake the unease as clasped his hands together over his chest, waiting for his alarm clock to start blaring the same way it did every morning at seven. Sleep was something that came so rare that Louis was lucky if he got just a few hours, nightmares kept him up often enough for him to adjust to nearly no sleep; he hardly flinched when his alarm began to scream for him to get out of bed. Louis merely turned it off and slid from under the covers, moving slowly as if he wasn’t supposed to be in class in half an hour. The shower he took was hot and fast and well it looks like he wasn’t going to style his hair today; he attempted to comb out the knots while he walked to his closest, momentarily pondering what to wear. The boy picked out, from a very large selection, a plain black t-shirt and slid on dark jeans. Louis wasn’t quite satisfied with how he looked today, what with the dark bags beneath his eyes and strange paleness to his usually tan face. Giving himself one more glance with a sigh Louis retrieved a pair of Vans from beneath his bed and headed down the hallway, already exhausted.

As he entered the kitchen he tried to brighten up, “Morning, mum.”  He said, planting a kiss on her cheek, “Morning girls.” He added to the sisters sitting at the table. They each smiled at him individually with mouths full of cereal and toast.

Jay grinned and set an extra plate down on the table, “Did you sleep well, love?” She asked suspiciously, evaluating the bags beneath his eyes.

               

 “ ‘Course, mum, always do.”  He replied, displaying one of his charming smiles across his face.

 

She sighed hesitantly before continuing, “Would you like some breakfast? Eggs, waffles maybe…”  Her usual friendly smile returning.

                

“No, thanks mum. I’m just going to head out.”  Louis replied quickly, stealing a piece of toast from Lottie’s plate and shoving it in his mouth before turning on his heels out of the room.

               

“Don’t forget your exam today!”  Jay shouted from the kitchen, sighing as she realized the boy was already out of ear shot. Louis fumbled with the car keys a tad, trying hard to get his eyes to focus enough just to get them in the small slot. It was just hard to think when his mind was working over-time just to overpass the cloud of exhaustion he felt. Not that it was anyone’s fault but his own, of course. Louis drove slower than usual to the building; He was hardly in the mood to sit through four hours of classes he really didn’t think he had to take. But nonetheless he pulled up into the parking lot and dragged his heavy feet into the common-room, instantly spotting his friends.

                

“Hey, Lou!” Zayn called, “Oh shit, you look terrible man. What the fuck happened to you, it sort of looks like you haven’t slept in weeks.” The boy said with wide and curious eyes, moving slightly closer to examine the bags beneath Louis’.

                

Niall socked Zayn in the shoulder, “You have no idea…” Louis murmured quietly, scratching the back of his neck mindlessly. He mostly stayed quiet as his friends chattered on, only taking notice when Danielle took a seat across from him, looking equally as trashed and worn out. Niall whispered something in her ear and she nodded, giving him a small smile.

                

“You look like shit too.” Zayn said, laughing as he took in Danielle’s drowsy, but still beautiful, face and frizzy hair. Harry gave him a look and a light punch in his already sore shoulder and Zayn glared at Harry and Niall before continuing, “What the hell is going on? I feel like I’m missing something. You guys aren’t fucking, are you? Because Louis last time I checked you’re gay, not that I mind, but I’d like to be informed.” He rambled. His friends just shook their heads and Harry did a dramatic face-palm.

               

Niall laughed loudly, stretching his arms over the back of the couch, “Right, mate. As if he’d tell _you_ of all blokes that he was shagging someone.”

“No Zayn, we aren’t  _fucking.”_  Louis said, a bit nastier than necessary. His friends looked at him with wide eyes and Niall’s jaw dropped. “Sorry…” he muttered into his hands.

                

“Someone’s a wee bit defensive, eh?”  Zayn said quietly to Liam who only shook him off, looking as if he were about to say something. Louis stood up and began to gather his things, ready to just go find someplace quiet and comfortable enough for him to hear his own thoughts. Louis headed around the corner and down the hall, ignoring the protests leaking from Harry’s mouth. He had just made it out of the common room when a large figure blocked his path and a sudden urge to puke washed over him, “Oi, queer. Where’re ya headed?”  The raspy voice asked. Louis looked up, seeing the plump face of none other than Marcus O’Mire (who probably enjoyed antagonizing Louis more than anyone else in the school, or the entire world for that matter). The smaller of the two sighed, crossing his arms and trying to walk around the other boy. “Someone’s in quite a hurry, yeah? I asked where the fuck are ya headed faggot.” Marcus spat, blocking Louis’ path once more and laughing to a group of his hoodlum friends who had spontaneously formed behind him.

 

Fear racked Louis’ core and his eyes were shining with fright. “Just- Just fuck off.”  Louis said, laughter echoing from behind him. He let out a small cry has he was roughly shoved at the wall, closing his eyes tightly when a beefy hand pressed against his neck, pinning him to the hard stone.

               

 “You know, gay boy, I don’t think I like the fucking attitude.” Marcus sneered, pressing harder on Louis’ windpipe. He gasped for breath but getting air into his lungs was getting more and more difficult. His vision blurred as he tried to shout for Liam or Harry or just _someone_ to help him. Everything was getting dark and he knew he was going to pass out soon and he accepted it, until suddenly the pressure was relieved. His hand immediately flew to his neck and he finally opened his eyes, gasping as he watched Marcus being thrown by a furious Liam.

                

Suddenly Louis was almost frightened of Liam, he had pretty much picked Marcus up and thrown him as if he weighed nothing. “What the _fuck_  were you doing?”  Liam shouted, not even waiting for a response before he was on Marcus again, sending repeated punches to his face. Louis noticed that the others had emerged in the hallway and he must have blinked or something; he definitely didn’t see the huge brawl begin between the bullies and his friends begin or see who attacked who first. Literally one second it was just Liam beating the shit out of Marcus and the next thing he knew Zayn was rolling on the ground, throwing as many blows as he could into the other boys face. Niall was turning the shoulder of a tall boy who had jumped on the back of Harry as he wrestled with another, sending a well-aimed fist straight into the boy’s face.  Louis sank down the wall, eyes wide. He hadn’t realized when he started crying, but his face was wet with tears.

              

  “Oi! What in God’s name is going on here? Break it up. I said break it up damn it!” The dean shouted, followed by multiple on-campus security guards. The boys each looked up from their tussles like a deer in headlights before hesitantly pulling away. Niall, Liam, Harry, and Zayn stood up slowly. Harry and Niall winced as they lightly dabbed at the small bit blood that leaked from their noses; Liam threw one last punch, nailing Marcus square in the nose that responded with a satisfying crack and Zayn let out a cocky laugh, straightening his shirt. They met up and slinked in a line towards Louis, who was still on the ground.  Harry grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up swiftly from the marble floor.

               

 “Lou, what the fuck happened? We came in here and saw Liam beating the shit out of that arsehat. What the hell did he do?”  Harry whispered intensely, looking into Louis’ eyes with frightened, yet excited, globes of emerald.  Liam stood up, leaning casually against Louis’ shoulder with one hand and rubbing his lightly bruised jaw with the other.

                

“I walked around the bloody corner and saw those pricks fucking with Lou! One was choking him for Christ’s sake.”  Liam replied loudly, half to the security officers and the dean, and then half to his clueless friends who had somehow managed to show up at the most perfect time, but without any knowledge of the fight they were about to partake in. Liam sent fiery glares in Marcus’ direction, but felt proud when he noticed numerous of the bruises forming on his face and a steady stream of blood flowing out of his nose.

                

“Is this true, Louis. Did they assault you first?”  The dean questioned, walking closer. His eyes grew wide. He pulled a pair of spectacles from his coat pocket and rested them on the bridge of his pointy nose. “My lord…” He said quietly, looking closer at the perfect hand shaped bruise that was painted across his neck.

               

 “You, you, you, and you. Come with me right now.”  The dean turned, suddenly steaming, pointing at the four intimidators. Niall, as childish as it was, stuck his tongue out in victory at the boy whose face he nearly much smashed to a pulp. Zayn was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed coolly, he sent a wink and a taunting smile towards the boy he gave a mean black eye too. He, as always, had managed to somehow come away from a fight without so much as a scratch. Harry wrapped an arm around Louis’ shoulders; the action was more so performed by the need he felt to be held back by something. He knew that if he didn’t hold on to something he would, without any doubt, go after the boys who had been tormenting his best mate.

               

Louis still hadn’t said anything though; he kept his eyes on the ground, ignoring the worried glances that he could feel burning holes into him. It even took him a second to realize that they were actually trying to speaking to him. He looked up to see Eleanor and Danielle standing close together, eyes darting worriedly towards him as they whispered back and forth. He next looked to Liam, who was staring directly at him, along with three other pairs of eyes.

               

 “What?”  Louis asked.

                

“Why were they picking on you, mate?”  Niall asked, tripping over his own feet and shoving through Harry and Zayn to stand next to him.

                

“You all fucking know why.”  Louis whispered, to quiet for anyone to hear. The boys exchanged confused looks before trying again.

               

 “What? Lou c’mon you’ve got to speak up, love.”  Eleanor said, taking small steps closer before placing a delicate hand on his shoulder.

                

 _“You guys fucking know why_ **.** ” Louis repeated, this time his voice louder and more agitated. “Because I’m fucking gay. Because I’m a homo! Because I like cock in my arse and that’s a problem for them! It’s always the problem.” He added, his voice started loud with a tone of sarcasm before lowering to a soft buzz. He looked from face to face, registering each emotion. Niall and Liam looked sad and sympathetic, although Liam looked more angry than sad, he supposed. Zayn had his eyes pressed shut and was taking deep breaths in, undoubtedly just trying to calm himself. Harry was absolutely livid. His eyes were narrowed, his body was tense and his eyes plead with Louis’.

                

“Lou, don’t even pay any attention to that shit. Seriously.”  He whispered sincerely, slowly sliding his arm from its position around Louis’ shoulder. Louis shrugged in response, taking a trembling breath before turning to speak to all of them, looking each of them in the eye before he spoke.

               

 “I think class is about to start, don’t want to miss our exam, yeah?”  He said, drastically changing the subject. He turned on his heels and walked quickly down the hallway, leaving his friends in complete and utter confusion.

                

“Poor Lou…”  Danielle whispered softly before taking off slowly down the hallway with Eleanor on her tail. Niall gave Liam a quick nudge, signaling for him to follow before making his way down the empty hallway.

                

“Haz, c’mon man we’ve got to go. Lou’ll be fine, yeah? Let’s go.”  Zayn said, honesty flickering in his eyes. He tossed a friendly arm around Harry’s shoulders, ruffling the curls of his younger friend. Of course Louis was going to be alright, he always was. But as he inspected his neck in the mirror under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the bathroom he seriously wondered how he was ever go to begin to cover this one up. His mother would for sure notice the distinct finger shaped bruises wrapped almost fully around his neck that were tainted with a gruesome purple tone, and she would not be happy.

                

“Fucking hell…” He whispered, slowly caressing the wound. He sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with as much oxygen as they could hold before blowing it out slowly, the stream of air lightly swaying his fringe. He leaned against the sink for another moment, and then headed off down the corridor once more, watching carefully over his shoulder the entire way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you think; criticism or ideas or whatever i just want feedback


	6. Eleanor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor has a few secrets and she's getting the feeling that she can't hide them for very much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.
> 
> check out my tumblr, doingitallwithyou, i have many more one shots posted there :)
> 
> Also sosososososo sorry i haven't updated in ages! My little brother tried to kill himself and I've been spending nearly all day every day with him. He's doing very well, and I hope you all are excited for the next chapters!  
> I love you all and don't hesitate to comment! :)

They were all seated around a circular lunch table, they including Liam, Zayn, Harry, Louis, and Danielle. Niall had gotten left behind at the food line, being that he couldn’t decide between a very scrumptious looking cookie and a cold cup of chocolate pudding. When the small blonde boy returned it became clear that the food had gotten the best of him, inevitably he took both of the deserts. Eleanor glanced towards her Irish friend’s tray as he settled across the table from her, silently thinking how amazing his food looked as her mouth watered. She diverted her eyes away when her stomach started to grumble and she glanced at her own tray-- it consisted of nothing but an unopened can of diet soda and an apple. Tapping her fingers mindlessly on the table and shaking her leg involuntarily as she looked around the table at her friends. They were laughing and goofing around, although she noticed Louis had been extraordinarily reserved, and she couldn’t really blame him. The bruise on his neck was angry and purple and he rubbed it every few seconds, as if he wished it’d just go away. But she soon began feel uncomfortable around them. It wasn’t because they were having fun and she wasn’t; she just couldn’t stand to see them eat so much. Eating so many carbs, so much fat, so many calories… She couldn’t understand how they could eat that way, without a care in the world.  So with a flip of her long brunette waves she grabbed hold of her tray and quickly retreated from the table, leaving her friends in the dust without a word. Niall looked after her with crumbs falling from his mouth and then glanced at the rest of the group, not entirely sure of what just happened. Liam practically smelled like worry and as he made a move to leave the table the delicate hand of Danielle held him in place. Liam understood the touch, he knew it was saying he should just stay put and give her a minute, to see if she’d come back. But Eleanor’s shaky hands dumped the miniscule lunch into a garbage bin and turned to continue walking, obviously having no intentions of returning to the table. Her light feet carried her to the small bathroom that resided to the far right of the cafeteria.

               

Eleanor shoved the heavy door open and then closed it swiftly behind her, turning the silver lock with a flick of her wrist. Long legs carried her to the mirror above the small sink and her hands rested on the cool-ceramic, she gazed into the reflection of her own caramel eyes.  The eyes wandered over her face and her hand slowly rose to poke her cheek, which to her looked quite chubby. She slammed her eyes shut, breathing in and out with precision before stomping towards one of the dark green stalls. Her knees collided with the less than spotless tile and her hands held her body up. As she hunched over one hand lifted and travelled towards her mouth.

               

Eleanor lifted her head and let out a distressed sigh and she fumbled with the tissue dispenser, ripping a piece off to wipe the vomit from her lips before rising to her feet. Heading back to the sink she heard a small tapping ring through the door, followed by an almost sad whisper, “El? Are you in there?”  Liam’s sweet voice reached her ears; she debated on not replying at all, in hope that maybe he’d leave. But after another spur of tapping she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. “I know you’re in there. You alright?”  On the other side of the door Liam had pressed his ear desperately to the hard surface, waiting for a reply with worried eyes.

 “Yeah. Go away.”  Eleanor’s voice cracked and hitched at the end of her sentence as a small sob threatened to break through her lips. A trembling hand ruffled her waves in the mirror as she tried to regain her composure, wiping a small tear from the corner of her eye.

               

 “Bullocks. Open the door, Eleanor.”  His voice was stern and sent a quick chill through Eleanor’s blood. She looked herself over in the mirror one more time and her shoulders sunk in defeat. Her feet dragged along the floor of the bathroom as she made her way to the door.

 

When she opened it she was hardly surprised to see Liam standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”  He asked, his voice full of perplexity.

                

Eleanor scoffed, “No, of course not, idiot.”  She glanced anxiously around the small corridor, refusing to meet Liam’s eyes. Her hands mindlessly began to curl and uncurl themselves in her knit scarf, and she blinked furiously at the salty threat pressing against her eyes.

                

“I heard you throwing up.” His voice sounded terribly quiet, just above a whisper, and when she met his eyes she saw nothing but genuine emotion. The boy’s honesty and maturity enveloped his every move he made, the protective instinct kicking in. “Please tell me you’re just sick.” Liam’s large hands stretched out and grabbed hold of her shoulders and forcefully, but gently, turned her to face him. This gave her no choice but to look at him, and when she did she pulled in a shaky breath and tightly closed her eyes.

               

 “Just fuck off. Okay? Just fuck off.”  She finally spoke, pulling away from Liam and crossing her arms tightly over her chest, attempting to keep herself from crumbling to pieces before him. Eleanor then turned her back on her friend, walking without once turning back. The faint and desperate calls from Liam’s soft voice flew passed her in a small echo and she ignored them, heading straight to the front doors of the school and marching out. Keys were out and ready in a second, pressing into the ignition. She grasped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles had turned a pale white, the skin was tight and it looked as if the bone could pop out at any second.

               

 Her phone buzzed from the depths of her purse, signaling she had a text message. Eleanor tried to ignore it but her curiosity got the best of her and, keeping her eyes focused on the road ahead of her, she shoved her hand into the bag to retrieve the device. The name ‘Danielle’ flashed across the screen and she opened the message.

- _El where the hell did you go? U alright?_

               

Before she could begin a reply a second and then third text vibrated the phone in her hand.

_-I won’t tell anyone._

_-I expect u 2 tlk to me about this sumtime tho._

She sighed as she read Liam’s texts. Obviously she couldn’t just pretend that he didn’t know, considering Liam was never one to let go of things, especially things involving his friends. But she made no move to reply as she slid her mobile back into her bag.  Eleanor’s mind wandered aimlessly as she continued her drive back to her home, which was a bit less than ten minutes away. Pulling into the driveway caused her to let out a relieved sigh. The driver’s door slammed shut behind her and she made her way up the small stone path to the front door, twisting a golden key into the lock before she pushed the door open with ease.

               

 “Babe? Chris are you home?”  She called, setting her things down on a small coffee table when she entered the living room. Her eyes looked over the mess before her; fast-food wrappers littered the floor along with a half empty bowl of popcorn and a couple empty cans of beer. Eleanor groaned loudly as she picked up the mess, juggling the items in her arms as she entered the small kitchen.  She dumped everything in a garbage bag and rubbed a hand over her face. Living with Christofer was stressful; he was always so messy, he hated cleaning, and he refused to cook. Ever. They had only been living together for a bit over four months and Eleanor was nearly to the point of ripping her own hair out any time a new mess appeared.

 

“Hello, love.”  A cool voice whispered in her ear as a pair of arms snaked around her waist. Warm lips pressed into her neck, right below her ear. She twisted in the arms to face her boyfriend, giving him a warm smile and returning his flirtatious kiss. “What are you doing home this early? Not that I object, of course.”  Chris continued, flashing a heart-stopping and swoon worthy smile.

 

“Let off early, I finished all of those damned exams.”  The lie slipped smoothly off her tongue. “Would have been nice to come home to a cleaned place, though…” Her voice trailed off. She glanced slowly up into Chris’ hard grey eyes. He seemed to had gone stiff and his eyes looked vacant. He pushed her away quickly and glared at her, his fists balling at his sides. Eleanor reached out a hand and touched his face lightly, trying desperately to prevent one of his episodes from occurring.

 

“If you have problems with living with me then move your arse out!”  Christofer hissed through his teeth.

 

“I never said I had a problem with living here, Chris! You’re overreacting!”  She answered, her voice pleading.

 

“Now I’m overreacting? What do you think I am? Some kind of fucking psycho?”  He stepped closer to her, trapping her between his body and the counter.

 

Eleanor’s voice wavered as she spoke, “No! Chris why are acting like this? Just let me go get your pills and we can calm down, okay?”  She moved slightly to the side, trying to step around Chris’ muscular build. A hard hand wrapped itself tightly around her wrist and pulled her back.

 

“Chris you’re hurting me.” He squeezed tighter. “For fuck’s sake Chris let me go!” She finally shrieked, yanking harshly against his strength. As she pulled away from him his face twisted with anger. He turned after her and crashed his palm violently against her cheek. Eleanor stumbled backward, her hair fell in front of her face as her hand reached to cup her throbbing cheek.  A steady river of tears began to slide down her cheeks as she slid slowly down the wall. She glanced up at Chris whose expression was now shocked.

 

“Jesus Christ. Fuck. El I’m so sorry. I-I-Oh shit. Babe come here.” He pleaded, trying to wrap his arms around her in an apologetic embrace. She flinched away from the touch and stood up on unsteady legs.

 

“I think you need to leave, Chris.”  Eleanor responded blankly, not meeting his gaze. Chris cocked his head at her and opened his mouth to protest.

 

“Fine. I’ll leave then.”  She stomped out of the kitchen, grabbing her bag and her keys swiftly before exiting, making sure to slam the door loudly in her wake.  Eleanor entered her car with ease and started the engine, she paused for a moment. Where was she supposed to go? She couldn’t show up at her parent’s house with a swollen face, they would never let her return to Chris. Not knowing where else to go, she headed back towards the College. A smile crept to her face when she pulled into the parking lot and she saw her friends relaxing off in the courtyard. She bounced on her feet as she looked at them; she could see Niall lounging lazily across the grass with his head in Zayn’s lap and a spliff hanging loosely from his lips. Eleanor could hear his silly laugh even from her distance. Liam and Harry were sitting cross-legged across from each other. Zayn adjusted Niall’s head on his lap as he leaned backwards on his arms and Louis sprawled on his stomach, taking a drag from a cigarette while Danielle sat with her knees pulled casually to her chest. Eleanor approached quietly and five pairs of eyes turned to pour into her.

 

“ ‘Sup, gorgeous?”  Harry winked, laughing as she whacked him jokingly over his curls before sitting down next to him. The curly-headed boy continued to look at her, leaning closer.

“Harry if you wanted a kiss you could just ask.”  Eleanor laughed sarcastically, interpreting Harry’s proximity falsely.  Her eyes widened as his hand gently touched her face and the other four pairs of eyes returned to her. Although she knew of a certain set of chocolate eyes had not once left her face since she arrived.

 

“What the fuck is that?” Harry questioned, glancing quickly across the circle to Liam and then to Niall, who had sat up quickly from his relaxed position. Eleanor gasped quietly, her hand flying to her cheek. 

 

She hadn’t realized it left a mark…

 

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”  She stuttered, turning her face away from the intense stares, only to meet Liam’s. His eyes were begging, they were pleading. But she turned away from him too, focusing on the blades of grass she was pulling from the ground.

 

“That is not fucking _nothing_. Who the fuck hit you?”  Harry spat, jade eyes narrowing.

 

“El… If it’s Chris…”  Danielle whispered urgently, sliding next to her friend. “If he’s hurting you…”

 

“I swear to fucking God if I ever see that prick. I’ll fucking kill him.”  Zayn rambled, his face turning red with anger. If it were under different circumstances Eleanor would be giddy that the boys were acting so protective considering they usually treated her and Danielle as one of the guys. But all Eleanor could do was stare down at her hands silently. Niall also stayed quiet as he turned to face the ground and brought his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around them.

 

“Babe…”  Louis spoke lowly. His bright eyes were filled with sadness as he looked at the angry red hand-print on her cheek. “Please just tell us.”  His voice was soft and sweet, it was caring. But Eleanor had yet to look at any one of her friends and when she did Liam was still staring straight at her, speaking with his eyes.  _Tell me_. They said.  _Please_ **.**

 

“It was an accident, really. He didn’t mean to.”  The reassurance was false, and she was sure everyone knew that, but she said nothing else.

 

“Bullshit.”  Harry whispered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

 

Eleanor appreciated the care and concern her friends felt, but she couldn’t risk anyone ever confronting Chris. She sincerely hoped they would let it go, especially Harry. If he did anything drastic, things could end badly for both of them. Or everyone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Please please please leave me some comments, just to let me know what you think. It means so much to me :)
> 
> much love.


	7. Zayn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn is sort of a fuck up and he doesn't really care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.
> 
> check out my tumblr, doingitallwithyou, for more one shots and stuff! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for being so patient, as a huuuge thank you to everyone who reads I'm posting 3 chapters today!(6,7,8)

“Not your best, Mr. Malik.” The scrawny professor dropped a paper onto the boy’s desk, eyeing him wearily over his thick-framed glasses.

 

“Fuck…”  Zayn cursed, running his hand through his styled hair. He looked at the paper through long eyelashes, cursing to himself again. This was his sociology exam, one of the biggest of the year, and he had completely bombed it. In the top right corner a capital  **F** was written in thick red marker, with a small note written a bit to the side:

**Please see me after class**

 

“God fucking damn it!”  He hissed, fist pounding against the table and causing his peers to throw strange stares in his direction. It wasn’t his fault that there had been an absolutely brilliant party the night before; he obviously wasn’t going to sit at home and  _study_  while all of his mates went out and got out of their minds wasted.

 

That definitely wasn’t going to happen.

 

“Oh come on, mate. It isn’t that bad.”  Louis said, trying to sound convincing from his seat directly behind Zayn, he had leaned forward so his chin rested on the dark-haired boys shoulder. “You can always make it up, yeah?”  Zayn sighed and shrugged Louis’ head off of him, sinking low in his seat. Louis rolled his eyes half-heartedly as he leaned back into his chair, pursing his lips and crossing his arms defensively over his chest. His young friend paid no attention and focused on the problem at hand. He was fucked. So fucked and he knew it. This wasn’t the only class he seemed to be bombing; psychology and maths seemed to be fucking him over as well. Zayn waited silently and impatiently for the end of class, and when the bell signaled dismissal he headed straight towards his professor. He leaned against the smooth wood of the front desk and looked the emotionless teacher in the eye, waiting a moment before speaking.

               

“What the hell is this?”  His voice leaked anger as he slammed the failed exam down in front of him.

               

 “It looks to be the exam that you failed, Mr. Malik. And watch your tongue in here, will you.”  The man replied, not even looking up from his pile of work. “It also seems that you are completely failing this class, why do you think that is?”  Zayn resented the smart-ass tone of his professor but tried to pull a decent response, nonetheless. 

 

 _I like to take naps during this period. I hardly turn in work. I party instead of study for exams_ … His conscience explained. Dreamy eyes stared blankly at his teacher but he only responding with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

              

  “ ‘Dunno.” He replied, voice filled with traces of sarcasm and carelessness.

               

 “Right, well where should we begin then? For one, you skip nearly three times a week, the other two days you actually bother to show up you bring it upon yourself to take naps or stare out the window for the entire period. Two, you never turn in assignments, regardless of how simple they may be. And three, you’re absolutely careless, Zayn. If you still have any hopes of receiving a scholarship for the arts you need to get your act together, you need to pick up these pieces and  _fix it_. Now I’m definitely willing to help you in this, Mr. Malik, but I can’t do it alone. I’ll need your cooperation to get your grade up by the end of the semester. Because, as I’m sure you know, if you don’t pass this class you’ll have to repeat this course. It isn’t an option.”  The professor removed his glasses and began to clean the lenses, all while staring straight at the student.

                

“Yeah, I’m well aware, thank you.”  Zayn snapped in reply, he was pissed off. He knew it wasn’t his teacher’s fault that he was flunking; it also wasn’t his fault that Zayn straight up just didn’t give a shit. “I think it’s about time for me to head out. You have a fantastic day, professor.”  He continued, obviously forcing himself to try to sound at least a bit polite. His angry hands stuffed the exam in his bag before he huffed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. The professor simply shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh, continuing his work.

               

 Zayn slammed his fist against the wall as he left the room, cursing under his breath as he walked out of the building. His hand reached down into his right pocket, grasping four small tablets tightly in his palm. It retracted and he observed the tiny pills; they were circular and half were blue while the other have were yellow. With a shake of his head he swallowed the pills down dry, gulping a few times to remove the lump in his throat. He wasn’t necessarily sure what the pills he had taken were called, but he heard they were supposed to make people feel good and he’s never one to turn that opportunity down. Along his walk home he began to feel a bit drowsy, if drowsy could describe how he was feeling. It was like a strange state of consciousness. He was abnormally relaxed and his reaction timing was very off. But he liked it. He liked how every stress he had just released from his body. It did sort of make him feel empty, lightweight maybe, but happy. He was practically floating down the pavement, lost in his own mind. Thoughts were swimming around aimlessly in his head and he didn’t have a care in the world. And Zayn was almost positive he walked the entire distance with a psychopathic grin spread across his face.

               

When he reached his apartment he entered on light feet, heading straight to plop down on the couch. A smug smile reached his face as he retrieved a spliff quickly from his bag and slid it easily between his lips. After nearly sending out a search party for his missing lighter, he found it beneath the couch and flicked the flame on, holding it to the end of the spliff and inhaling deeply. Even though he knew it wasn’t exactly a good idea to subdue himself to this behavior, he honestly couldn’t care less. A small voice in his mind informed him that this could just be the drugs talking. But he enjoyed his sense of weightlessness and relaxation anyway, settling deeper into the sofa. His body meshed with the material and he felt as if they were now part of the same being. He sank into his own thoughts which honestly weren’t very sane and he laid in utter silence for a period of time he would never be able to specify. His consciousness was floating in and out of strange limbo when a sudden voice filled his ears. Zayn cracked opened one drooping eye just enough to see who had dared to disturb him.

               

 “Jesus Christ mate, what the hell are you on and can I have some.”  Niall chortled, the Irish accent played in his ears as he wondered how in all hell Niall gotten in his house. He’s positive, even in his distracted state, that he locked the door when he got in. His blonde friend answered his silent question by jingling a spare set of keys in front of his stoned face.

                

“Gave ‘em to me last week, but I’m sure you don’t remember that much.” Niall stated, sending a small wink towards his friend who had finally opened both of his eyes. He didn’t feel quite sober, but he also didn’t feel blown out of his mind, honestly he didn’t know how he felt. A bit dizzy, still, but definitely much more functional. But there was a strange feeling in his stomach and an obscure pounding in the back of his head. His big brown eyes blinked harshly a few times before he sat up on the sofa and offered the seat next to him to his friend.

               

 “So are you going to tell me what sort of shit you took this time or are you just going to keep staring at me like some blazed fool?”  The accent filled his ears again and it took his brain a minute to process the words before he could respond.

                

“I-I don’t know what the fuck they’re called. Some… Shit…” Zayn stumbled over his words, totally forgetting what the pills even looked like. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the first half of his day. But his mind didn’t linger on the fact that his memory was shit, not wanting to worry about it.

               

 “Do you have another of whatever you took?” Niall stared at Zayn, leaning his elbows on his own knees. Zayn eyed him suspiciously, “I don’t want to _take_ them, you tit, just lemme see them.”  The boy continued, holding his hand out expectantly. Zayn narrowed his eyes and fished in his pocket for a second before he finally wrapped his fingers around the small form of a pill. He held it out shakily, not because he was scared or nervous, he just couldn’t keep his hand from shaking.

               

 “Oh hell, that’s Valium man it’s one of those benzo things, where the fuck did you get that?” Niall said, reaching for the small yellow pill and rolling it between his fingers before looking back at Zayn with his magnificently blue eyes.

                

“Some guy… He was handing them out a-at some party the other day. I don’t fucking know.”  He mumbled, closing his eyes. He heard Niall’s loud and over exaggerated sigh.

              

  “Mate this stuff has weird side-effects. It fucks with your memory, and I heard it can even make you go up the wall.” After a questioning glance from Zayn he continued to explain, “Like, it can make you feel really fucking excited for no reason, then the next second you could just be crazy pissed. It’s weird, Zayn. But I’ve also been told it’s different for everyone, how do you feel?”

               

 “I don’t even know. I-I felt weightless, empty, sort of. Like nothing even matters. Mate I can hardly explain it; it’s like no other high, though. Honestly.” Zayn explained as he rubbed the back of his neck, massaging where the throbbing pain had settled.

               

 “Right, well be careful, yeah? You never know what sort of shit could be in those pills you pick up.”  Niall explained, a bit of genuine worry tinted his words. Zayn honestly didn’t care what was in the drugs he took-- he was just looking for a good time and that’s about it. But for the sake of his younger friend, he agreed.

                

“No problemo, Nialler. I’m a big boy, and I can handle myself. Now be a good little leprechaun and fetch me that bottle of booze from the kitchen.”  His words were playful but he saw the flash of hurt register on Niall’s face before it quickly left again, replaced immediately by a terribly executed fake smile.

               

 “You’re a right prick, you know that?”  The Irish lad said only half joking as he pushed himself from the couch and headed towards the small, and frankly smelly kitchen. He looked over the room for a moment before discovering the bottle Zayn mentioned planted on top of the fridge. Standing up on the tip of his toes, he carefully grasped the bottle and pulled it safely to his chest, making sure not to drop it.

               

 “Here you go, princess.”  The sarcastic tone of his blonde friend was obvious but he ignored it, beginning to mindlessly chug from the bottle.

               

 “Woah, slow down there mate…”  Niall interrupted, leaning to pull the bottle from the tight grasp of the Bradford boy, only to have his hand slapped away. Zayn continued to chug, tightly closing his eyes as he tried to ignore the burning in his throat.

                

“Okay, fuck. Seriously give me the bottle, you bloody psycho.” The alcohol was ripped from his hands and he looked towards his friend with glassy eyes.

               

 “Fuck you.”  Zayn slurred, clearly already extremely intoxicated. Niall shook the rude remark off and closed the cap of the beverage, leaning back against the cushions. “Really, you prat, give me the fucking bottle!” He grumbled, crawling across the couch to lunge at the bottle that resided in Niall’s grasp. His drunken gaze fell upon the slightly faded bruise that marked right beneath his friend’s eye

“What the fuck is that?” Zayn questioned, poking at the blushed cheek of the younger boy. Niall flinched away from the touch and twisted the bottle nervously in his hands. He thought that an angry and drunken Zayn was bad enough, but now he was about to sit and listen to him slur obscenities  _and_ questions towards him. And it was inevitable the fit that would be thrown if Niall refused to answer.

                

“Mate, it’s nothing. Don’t touch.”  He responded calmly, pushing Zayn’s hand away.

                

“You’re a liar, Horan. Soooo full of  _shit_ , you are.” Alcohol scented breath washed over Niall’s face and he cringed at the all too familiar stench. His head shook from side to side as if to say No. You’re wrong.

               

 “Oh, cut the bullshit leprechaun, tell the truth for once, yeah?  Zayn’s tone was absolutely nasty, it was insulting and tinged with a very detectible sense of crudeness. In his drunken state, he wasn’t exactly sure why he was picking on the poor Irish boy. He’d like to believe that it was the mix of drugs and alcohol, but there was never really a good reason to pick on Niall. The kid honestly had never done anything to deserve being attacked at random. But Zayn pressed on nonetheless

               

 “Hm, someone’s being a bit too quiet. C’mon, fucking tell me the truth, you wanker.” He spat again, staring into his friends pained eyes with his own bloodshot pair.

                

Niall looked down at his lap sadly and stared at his hands, “You’re a fucking drunk.” He said quietly. 

                

“And you’re a fucking liar.” Zayn retorted, alcohol seeping from his tongue once more, the smell was so strong that Niall felt like he could taste it. He sat there and listened to his friend spit abuse, but somewhere in the back of his mind, something clicked.

 

Niall’s eyes went wide and he stared at Zayn, “You know…”

 

Zayn stared back with lazy drunken eyes, “Of course I do. You’re a shit liar, not to mention all of those fucking bruises.” Niall winced as Zayn poked him in his bruised side and smirked darkly, “Honestly, mate. If it’s such a secret maybe you should try just a wee bit harder to cover ‘m up.” And Niall didn’t even know what to say. He was sort of hurt; if Zayn knew about the abuse why wouldn’t he bother to see if Niall was okay?  Why would he continue to make jokes as if he hadn’t the slightest idea as to what happened at Niall’s home.

 

He was really at a loss for words.

 

“Wha… What the fuck is wrong with you.” Niall managed, standing up too quick and causing the bottle to spill over onto Zayn’s lap.

 

Rage filled the boy’s dark eyes and he stood up fast, hitting Niall in the jaw with such force that his back hit the ground before he could even blink. “Fucking fight back!” Zayn spat, willing Niall to defend himself. But Niall couldn’t seem to make himself move, he couldn’t do anything but gawk at Zayn with wide eyes. “Oh right,” Zayn snorted as he crossed his arms, “of course you won’t fight back. You’re nothing but a weak…” he approached Niall and bent over him to jab a finger into his chest, “ _pathetic,_ little boy. _”_

Before Zayn could even blink Niall was up and out the door and he just stood there. His head was fuzzy and his stomach hurt and _what the fuck_ did he just do? He couldn’t breathe and he sat back down on the couch, trying to catch his breath.

 

His heart was going to beat out of his chest but all he could think of was trying to find more of those pills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think :)


	8. Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam is really protective of Niall, Zayn and Louis are assholes, and nobody really knows what to do anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.
> 
> check out my tumblr, doingitallwithyou, for more one shots and stuff! :)
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for being so patient, as a huuuge thank you to everyone who reads I'm posting 3 chapters today!(6,7,8)

Liam sat leaning against his bed with his legs folded neatly in front of him, the familiar pair of scissors weighed down heavily in his shaky hand. Of course he had promised himself he would never dare to do this to himself to this again, but he just couldn’t help it. Every fiber of his being would begin to itch for the blade if he waited too long; it had become an addicting emotional release for the boy and the cuts hidden beneath his sleeve proved it. He had found himself pulling the blade out nearly every day, sometimes more than once, eager to feel the pressure against his skin. And as he slowly inched the scissors closer to his forearm, patiently waiting for the relief he would soon be feeling, his phone buzzed violently from beneath him. Pulled from his trance, he reached for the source of the vibrating and held it in front of him, squinting to read the screen to see that Niall was calling.

 The hysteric Irish boy on the other end petrified him; his body stiffened and the scissors fell noiselessly from his grasp. He tried to understand the words coming from his friend but it was hopeless. Liam spent at least five minutes hushing and cooing at his best mate, convincing him to take a deep breath and try explaining again. The words began to flow quick but smooth from the blonde boy’s mouth, re-telling his recent visit to Zayn’s apartment with vivid detail. Through Niall’s hysterics Liam managed to gather all of the information he needed.

The anger in his core burned and his hands started to shake, “That son of a bitch, stay put. I’m coming to get you.” Liam was absolutely livid. His brain could hardly process the information he had just received. If he didn’t break something soon he felt like he was going to explode. Niall was untouchable territory, and Zayn stepped over a line that caused something to snap inside Liam.

Niall heard the line go dead and he sighed sadly, sitting himself carefully on the small porch in front of his house. His chest felt like it was going to explode; he didn’t know how to handle the way Zayn had spoken to him and it was slowly eating away at him. Niall couldn’t understand what caused his friends outburst, he couldn’t understand what he had done to make Zayn be so cruel to him. He tried to believe that maybe it was the drugs and alcohol talking. But something worried him more than that, something he worried about nearly every single day. Was he really that bad of a liar? If Zayn could see through his layer of lies, what makes him think that the others couldn’t? Maybe he should start to hide the bruises more, or maybe he just shouldn’t see any of his mates until they faded…  The roar of an engine brought him to his feet and he smiled half-heartedly to Liam, pulling his hand up to wave. The brunette boy’s lips were pressed into a tight line and the anger was practically radiating from his body and out of the car. Niall hopped to the passenger’s seat, quickly buckling his belt before looking at his friend.

               

Seeing Liam like this almost scared him, but Niall tried to make casual conversation “You alright? Where’re we going?”  And honestly he had a pretty good idea of where they were going, but he waited for an answer anyway.

               

Liam gripped the steering wheel tightly, “Zayn’s.” He replied bluntly, not taking his eyes off of the road in front of him. Niall huffed quietly in his seat and decided maybe it wasn’t the best idea to inform Liam of what happened; he had always been a bit overprotective him. He couldn’t help but fear the outcome of this situation. Liam was absolutely pissed, infuriated beyond belief and Zayn was most definitely going to stand his ground when confronted, which could possibly lead to a violent altercation between the two friends. The Irishman rested his cheek against the cool window and watched as his breath spread a small fog across the glass each time he exhaled, he snuck a glance at Liam from the corner of his eye, quickly averting it when he noticed the twisted expression planted on the older boys face.

               

Liam had been driving a bit recklessly during the short distance to Zayn’s complex; speeding dangerously, nearly shooting right past multiple stop signs and slamming the breaks just in time as the traffic light turned red. The action brought fear up in Niall’s gut as he realized just how angry his protective friend actually was-- he was more than relieved when they finally skid to a stop in front of Zayn’s apartment. He was grateful to be on solid, motionless ground once again.

 “Thank God!”  The blonde boy boasted, throwing himself dramatically into the grass as soon as he stepped from the vehicle. “I’ll never take you for granted again, I promise!”  He said, goofily rubbing his hands through the freshly cut grass.

                

“Get up, Niall.” Liam’s voice was stern; it definitely didn’t contain the tone of humor that his younger friends did. The smile fell quickly from Niall’s lips as he stood up, brushing the grass off of his grey sweater and mumbling to himself. Watery blue sapphire eyes followed Liam’s figure closely as it stomped up to the front door and paused momentarily before turning back to the shorter boy.

               

 “Keys.”  Liam ordered, holding his large hand out. Niall dropped the spare set obediently in the awaiting palm and watched again as Liam forced the key into the lock, twisting it violently before throwing the door open.

 

—-

Harry’s head popped up from its position on Louis’ lap as the front door swung open and slammed loudly against the wall. Surprised jade eyes focused on the figures in the doorway, realizing it was Liam and Niall.

                

“Oi, thought you two would never show up--” Harry flashed them a toothy grin before it slowly slipped away, turning into a tight frown. He took in Liam’s tense posture and the angry crease between his thick brows, glancing a bit to the tall boys left he observed Niall whose shoulders slumped and whose sparkling eyes looked nervously about the room. The mop-topped boy looked anxiously up at Louis, and then across the room to Zayn. The dark haired boy’s eyes had gone wide and his cigarette filled lips had paused mid-drag. Honestly Harry had no idea why there was so much tension between the two boys who had just arrived and the dark-eyed boy in the bean-bag chair. But it scared him and by the way Louis tensed next to him, he wasn’t feeling too comfortable either. Harry snuggled into his side and became one hundred percent attentive, hardly looking up when Danielle and Eleanor entered from the kitchen. From his peripherals he saw them stop in their tracks before slowly continuing to the couch with their eyes moving worriedly from Liam to Niall and then to Zayn. Harry bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation; he wanted to know why Liam and Niall looked so… emotional, and why Zayn looked petrified.

 

What happened that he wasn’t aware of? What had taken place that nobody but those three knew about? He bit his lip and watched Liam take several calculated steps towards the center of the room, Niall followed hesitantly behind, slinking off to the side to lean against the wall.

               

 “Zayn, you… you fucking _prick._ You honestly better have a fucking brilliant reason for what you did, and I’ll give you five fucking seconds to explain.” Liam spat, staring straight into Zayn’s eyes. Harry was taken aback; clearly they had missed out on a rather interesting event.

 

 Zayn puffed up his chest as he stood up to face Liam.  “Liam…” he said calmly, holding his hands in front of his chest in surrender. His voice was steady but his eyes were scared, as if he was worried Liam was going to do something drastic.

                

“Alright. What the hell is going on?”  Louis piped up from his position on the couch, receiving nods of agreement from the two girls and the curly-haired boy beside him.

                

“Where should I start on the list?” Liam laughed bitterly, “See that nice shiny bruise on Niall’s face?” Niall’s cheeks turned sheepishly red as everyone stared at him, “Guess where it fucking came from.” Liam hissed again, his eyes never moving from Zayn’s emotionless face. Niall’s shoulders slumped further and the rest of the group exchanged confused glances.

               

 “Zayn… You didn’t…”  Louis gasped, his cerulean eyes bouncing between the two boys who were staring each other down. When he looked to Niall the blonde boy only shrugged.

 

“Okay, yeah, I got a bit drunk, and you’re right. I had absolutely no fucking right to go at Niall the way I did. And I’m really sorry, mate.”  Zayn replied slowly, as if the drugs hadn’t fully worn off but his eyes filled with sincerity. Liam narrowed his eyes before turning to look at his small blonde friend. He motioned with a flick of his wrist for the boy to come closer and when he was within distance Liam wrapped an arm protectively over his shoulders. Zayn took a timid step forward, only to be met with Liam roughly shoving him backwards.

 

Zayn looked shocked and slightly scared as Liam approached him and lifted a fist. He was ready to bash the pretty boy’s face in when Louis jumped in between them, Liam’s fist pressing against his nose. “Woah woah woah, relax, Payno. Relax.”

 

Liam scoffed, “Are you fucking _kidding,_ Louis?” The boy stared at him hardly, “After what he did to Niall?” Louis shook his head and lowered Liam’s fist with his own tiny hand.

 

“Please, Niall. Let me make this up to you.” Zayn pleaded, looking around Louis and Liam to meet Niall’s sad eyes, but they were still trained on the floor. “Please, mate. I’m sorry.”

 

Finally Niall looked up, angry and sad and just tired, “You’re nothing but a drunk, Zayn.” The hazel eyed boy looked stunned, and judging by the quiet gasps from the group, they were too. “Take your bollocks apology and shove it up your ass.” And with that Niall stomped out the front door, Liam following close behind.

 

Everyone stood in silence, not quite believing what just happened. Louis at down beside Harry again and wiped a shaking hand over his face before Harry spoke up, “So I guess now would be a pretty awful time to ask who wrote that on my face, huh…” He muttered, wringing his hands uncomfortably in his lap.

 

“What? Oh—Harry,” Eleanor whispered as if she almost forgot what happened.

 

Harry looked around with confused eyes, waiting for someone to speak up. Zayn had slid to the floor, knees pulled to his chest as he stared back. He shrugged and looked to Louis, nodding in his direction. Harry followed Zayn’s eyes and he met Louis’ sad blue ones, “Lou?”

 

The boy hissed under his breath, “Harry, mate. I-”

 

“No.”

 

The word flew from Harry’s lips so fast and it was filled with so many emotions. Sadness and anger and shock and _hurt_. How could Louis do something like that? Do something like that to _him_? To Harry. His best mate.

 

Louis just nodded as Harry tensed beside him. Did Louis really think so low of him? Did Louis really think he was nothing but a stupid slut?

 

“Hazza, please…” Louis whispered, tears threatening to spill over his eyes as he tried to grab Harry’s hand. The younger boy ripped it away, shaking his head and glaring

 

“No, _fuck you_ , Louis.”

 

“Plea-”

 

Harry laughed bitterly through his tears, “Sorry, can’t hear you mate. Too big of a slut, yeah?” He then stood and headed towards the door, ripping free the arm that Danielle grabbed as she tried to stop him. She tried to calm him down and talk to him but he left, slamming the door behind him. Danielle then looked to Louis, who had broken into a fit of awfully heart retching sobs.

 

“Lou, darling, go after him. He’s your best friend and you _really_ need to fix this.” She stated. Danielle was furious with the boy, and so was Eleanor. Neither of them could believe Louis would do such a thing, but they also couldn’t stand to see him so upset. The hurt in his eyes was so obvious that all they could do was try to convince him to find Harry. And he did, he stood up and gave the girls a thankful smile and waved to Zayn as he walked out the door. Once Louis was gone the last three were eerily silent and the tension was thick. Everyone was angry or confused or sad. Danielle fiddled with her hair and Eleanor picked at her nails and Zayn just sat there, staring into space and wondering how everything could go so wrong.

 

It was Eleanor who broke the silence first.

 

“We’ve got to fix this.” She said, “We can’t keep treating each other like such _shit.”_

 

Zayn noticed she was looking right at him and he nodded. He tried to speak but his mouth was tastelessly dry and all he could get out was a quiet “Yeah.”

 

“Yeah,” Danielle whispered, also looking at Zayn. He felt hot under their stares and he tried to find anywhere else to look. Anywhere but their accusing looks. “How could you do that to him though, Zayn?”

 

He knew this was coming and all he could do was shrug.

 

The girl scoffed, “If you knew someone was hurting him why wouldn’t you try to help him?”

 

“I- I just… I _wanted_ to help him. I really fucking did.”

 

“But you hurt him.” Eleanor said through her teeth, feeling so overwhelmed. Overwhelmed that this was happening to Niall, _their_ Niall. The soft and innocent and sweet blue eyed boy who had an accent to die for. The boy who couldn’t even hurt a fly if you paid him. He was being hurt and she didn’t notice, she didn’t help him. She wished she would have noticed that broken look in his eyes sooner and she wished she could just hug him. Tell him everything would be okay.

 

A small sob broke the silence and they looked at Danielle, “Guys, what are we going to do?”

 

Neither Zayn nor Eleanor had an answer. Because they didn’t know. They didn’t know how to fix this. They couldn’t fix Louis and Harry or Niall, hell, they couldn’t even fix themselves.

 

They really had no idea.


	9. Harry and Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis sort of really fucked up and he feels like an idiot, then he makes an even bigger idiot of himself, and Harry just might admit something to Louis that he's never told anyone before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.
> 
> check out my tumblr, doingitallwithyou, for more one shots and stuff! :)
> 
> Also holy shit, over 2000 hits? You guys are incredible! Please let me know what you think of this chapter. Maybe some Larry lovin?

 

Louis walked slowly down the park trails, keeping his eyes fixed on the small pebble he had been kicking along. The harsh wind ruffled through his hair and burned his cheeks, but he didn’t care. The pain he felt right now meant nothing compared to the pain he had caused Harry, and Louis deserved this. So he merely shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and sighed, wishing that Harry would just turn up already. Hadn’t he been hiding long enough? It had been hours since Louis had first left Zayn’s in search of him and he had seen no signs of Harry anywhere. The small rock went flying as he kicked it violently, cursing under his breath. Where the fuck is he? Why the hell won’t he answer his calls? His mind raced as he tried to come up with more places his friend could be.

 

Then Louis felt as if he could punch himself. How could he not have remembered sooner? He let his feet carry him down the path quickly in a steady jog before it turned into a full blown sprint. The small lake came into view, the setting sun reflecting beautifully off of the water’s surface in brilliant diamonds. When he looked closer he saw a hunched over figure sitting at its edge, looking small and broken. Louis knew right at that moment it was Harry, he could see the curls blowing wildly in the wind beneath the distinct beanie.

 

Louis approached quietly, trying carefully for Harry to not notice him right away.

Harry was almost within touching distance when the older boy finally gathered the courage to speak, “Haz…”  His voice was a light whisper that the wind carried to Harrys ears. The younger boy jumped slightly, having no idea that Louis had even arrived. For a moment Louis was frightened that Harry was just going to sit there and ignore him, but he released the breath he was holding when Harry turned to look at him. Surprise appeared momentarily in his green eyes before he narrowed he narrowed and glared daggers through Louis. “Harry please…”  Louis begged as he watched his friend, his best friend, stand up and began to walk away. Harry ignored the plea and kept walking; his shoulders slumped and his arms were wrapped tightly over his chest.

Louis felt his throat catch, “God  _damn it,_  Harry!  Fucking come back here and talk to me. _Please_.”  He tried again, his eyes watering Harry turned around slowly with a glare still fixed in his jade eyes.

 

“What. For what, Lou? So you can tell me how big of a  _slut_  I am? Why the  _fuck_ should I give you the time of day? I’ve never  _ever_  fucking judged you, Louis, not once, but I guess I shouldn’t have expected back the same. And I did everything for you, I was there for you, and I defended you, fuck, I got in a fucking _fight_ for you!” Harry approached Louis, jabbing an angry finger into his chest, “But hell, maybe it’s _you_. Maybe you just aren’t capable of being a real mate.”  He spat. His words hit Louis hard and he flinched back into himself. “No. Don’t you act like you did nothing wrong. I don’t fucking pity you Lou.”  He said coldly, staring straight into Louis’ eyes.

 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to pity me.” Louis whispered quietly as he looked down at his feet, “Haz I’ve been looking for you all day… I-… I wanted to apologize-“

 

A bitter laugh made Louis’ eyes widen, “Shut up.”  Harry’s tone was sharp and it practically cut through Louis’ skin. “Do you honestly think I sleep around? That I’m just some slag?”  

 

“No… Harry-“

 

Harry stared at the ground, nudging the sand with the toe of his shoe, “Then why? Why would you say that?”  The anger slipped completely from his smooth voice, sadness replacing it quickly.

 

“I’ve just… I’ve heard that you’ve gotten ‘round…”  Louis mumbled, a light blush reaching his cheeks as he kicked at the sand with his toe. The longer this conversation went on the more and more he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He was wrong. So fucking wrong.

 

“Really? With who, Louis? With fucking who!”  

 

“There are these girls-… and you’ve always got love bites… and… I just assumed…”  Louis whispered regretfully, feeling more immature and dumb than he ever had. He didn’t want to meet Harry’s gaze, but he did.

 

Harry laughed sinisterly then, running a hand through his curls before speaking through his clenched teeth, “You want to fucking know where those love bites came from? Do you really want to know?”  Louis didn’t know how to respond and he was scared, thinking maybe he didn’t want to know. He looked at his young friend with wide eyes and waited for him to continue.

 

Harry’s featured softened, “My bloody step-dad.” His gaze dropped to the ground and his bottom lip began to tremble.

 

Louis stared at Harry with a bewildered expression spread across his face, not knowing how to respond. His tongue stumbled over his words before he could finally manage to speak, “No, Harry. I- oh God I’m… fuck.”  It came out as nothing but a quiet whisper as he walked towards his pitiful friend. He pulled the boy tightly in his arms, letting him collapse completely in the embrace.

 

“Every fucking day, Louis. Every day.”  Harry sobbed, sinking his teeth into his lip viciously hard as he tried to contain them. He could taste the bitterness of the blood beginning to ooze from where he was biting but he didn’t let up. Louis had no idea what to say to his broken friend, how was he supposed to comfort him in this type of situation? How was he supposed to help?

                

“Harry does he…”  Louis whispered, turning Harry’s face to look at him. The younger boy said nothing but lightly nodded his head, confirming Louis’ suspicion before breaking down into another fit.

 

Louis lowered himself and his teary friend to the sandy ground beneath them and wrapped his arms tighter around Harry. “Haz, why didn’t you tell me…Tell anyone?” Louis asked quietly, running his fingers comfortingly through the boy’s curls. He felt Harry sigh deeply before he spoke so quietly Louis had a troubled time hearing him.

 

“I’m terrified of him, Lou. I can’t tell. My mum or Gemma, anyone… If I told them I-… I just can’t tell them.”

 

Louis thought about the situation for a moment. He could hardly blame Harry friend for being scared, any normal person would be too, but he didn’t quite understand what Harry thought could happen if he confessed to anyone else.

“But  _why_  Harry? Why can’t you tell anyone?” Louis was almost getting angry now, wanting nothing more than to protect Harry and rip out Robin’s throat. Furry bubbled up inside of Louis and suddenly he knew something had to be done. A quiet sigh escaped Harry’s lips as he worked his brain to come up with an answer. After all, he still wasn’t sure if it was necessarily the best idea to be telling Louis all of this, but he just couldn’t hold it in any longer and surprisingly, it felt pretty good having someone to talk to about it.

 

It made him feel safe. 

 

He sighed once more and spoke.  “Because if do I tell anyone, especially Gem or my mum, he’ll hurt them, or me… Worse than he does already.”  Harry emotionlessly explained, staring off towards the water. “I’d rather me go through it than them.”  

 

Louis understood that… Well, as much as anyone could ever try to understand. He understood how Harry wanted to protect his sister and his mother; Louis would do the same in a heartbeat. But he just couldn’t understand why Harry wouldn’t just go straight to the police, just turn Robin in and it’ll all be over with. Even just the thought of what Robin has done to Harry was enough to make Louis feel as if he were going to vomit. Harry. Seventeen year old, curly haired, Harry. _His_ Harry. The idea of the flame in Harry’s green eyes draining out and his screams going unheard made Louis shake. A chill ran through his body when a set of cold fingers brushed lightly against his neck.

“It’s faded a bit, Lou.”  Harry smiled weakly, touching the hand shaped bruise on Louis’ neck again. Louis felt that Harry desperately wanted to change the subject, so he nodded, though he hadn’t even noticed the bruise fading. He refused to look at it. To him it was still just a cruel reminder of the pain that he had been caused. “You doing better at all?” the curly boy continued, slowly pulling out of Louis’ arms and sitting next to him with his knees pulled tightly to his chest.

 

 Louis almost scoffed, “Of course, I’m just dandy.”  The sarcasm evident in his tone as he eyed the boy next to him tiredly. Louis opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak but he closed it again quickly, realizing that Harry wasn’t done.

 

Harry gave him a quizzical look, “Bollocks, Lou. You’ve been so quiet lately; we all know that isn’t like you.”  He grumbled, picking a rock from the sand and tossing it lightly into the lake angrily. Louis knew that Harry wasn’t angry with him, and he silently wondered how Harry managed to control his emotions every day.

 

Louis sighed, for what seemed to be the millionth time that evening, before looking down at his friend with beady blue eyes. “I just don’t know how to explain it.”

 

“Well you can try?”

 

The older boy nodded slowly and then looked away, not wanting to meet Harry’s eyes, “I was jealous….”

 

Harry stared at him, willing Louis to speak again because he really had no idea what he was talking about, “Jealous of what, Lou?”

 

“I just- those girls.” He mumbled, almost too quiet to be heard, “They had you and I… I didn’t.”

 

It went silent after that. Harry didn’t know what to say and Louis really just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. And honestly, Louis doesn’t know what he was expecting to get out of this but _fuck_ it was too late to go back now.

 

“Louis…?” He just nodded and Harry pursed his lips, not entirely knowing what to say. “It’s okay, we can talk about something else.” And Harry really didn’t want to talk about something else, he wanted to know what Louis was thinking, he wanted to keep talking about this so maybe Louis wouldn’t bring up Robin again. But Louis looked so uncomfortable that he couldn’t help but agree.

 

“Okay Lou, okay. We can talk about something else.” Harry smiled, poking his friend’s cheek, “Like those bags under your eyes, looks like you haven’t had a proper sleep in ages.”

 

Louis couldn’t believe that Harry just dropped the subject so quickly, and he had to admit that he was slightly disappointed. But he tried to smile back, hoping that they could talk about it soon, maybe even talk about Harry’s step-dad, too. “It’s those damn nightmares.”

 

Harry nodded his head knowingly, “Again?”

 

 “Yeah, mate. Same ones every single time.” Louis mumbled as he too brought his legs to his chest and slowly lowered his head to rest on the caps of his knees. Every single night for nearly three months Louis had been having nightmares that kept him up during all hours of the night, preventing any sleep, and it had only gotten progressively worse since his last fearful encounter.

 

“You know you’re safe, Lou. We wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” Harry assured, patting Louis’ shoulder comfortingly. The older boy winced as the dreams filled his vision, thoughts of being beaten absolutely senseless, being left for dead, all because of his sexuality. Visions of each of his friends leaving him behind in the dust.

 

Nightmares of being alone. Of losing everyone.

 

 “One, you know we’d never do that to you. Two, you saw what happened the last time some prick tried to fuck with you.” Harry reminded him, finally turning his gaze from the setting sun to face his older friend.

 

“But it’s happened before.” Louis whispered, shoving his face into the palms of his hands. Harry looked at him, cocking his head in confusion. Was Louis talking about before he moved here? It would make sense; none of the friends knew anything about Louis’ past at other schools. “They found out and they _really_ didn’t like it.”

 

 “Louis, fucking look at me,” Harry began angrily, forcefully turning Louis’ head to look at him, “we would  _never_  do that to you, do you understand? We would never fucking hurt you, or leave you, or any of that bullshit. I don’t know details of what happened or why you moved here, and you don’t have to tell me. But you need to know that what they did was absolutely fucked up and comparing that to what we’ve all been through together, it should be clear to you that we’re here to stay. We’re not going anywhere. Do you understand me, Louis? There is absolutely nothing to worry about, I promise that much.” Louis stared at him with his mouth ajar, he looked into the genuine eyes of his best friend and he finally smiled.

 

“I know, Curly, I know. I’m not quite sure why it’s got me so buggered, but I do believe you.”

 

 “Good, now,” Harry looked around them, “it’s getting late. Why don’t we head home?”  He stood up and offered a hand to his still seated friend. Louis took it gratefully and pulled himself up, brushing the sand from the seat of his jeans before they started walking. When they finally arrived back to the road Harry turned in the direction of his own home.

 

“Woah woah woah Haz, where the hell do you think you’re going?”  Louis had nearly shouted the question, his voice full of worry and shock.

 

Harry’s head cocked to the side, almost humorously, “Erm, home?” He replied slowly, as if waiting to see if it was the right answer to the question.

 

“Uh-Uh, nope. Come to my place tonight, yeah? I’m going to call the lads and you’re all going to come over. My mum and sisters our out visiting Gram, so us lot are going to have a chill night.”  Louis was smiling, but there was something hidden behind those pearly ocean eyes and that tight smile that Harry was skeptical about. He was also a bit skeptical about asking the lads to come to Louis’ tonight. Doesn’t Lou realize the events that had occurred just a few hours prior? What if they had missed something and the boys refused to be near one another? But he decided there was no hurt in calling the lot anyways, even if they decided against joining them that evening, he could at least find out what he missed.Harry realized he was being oddly quiet and looked at Louis who stared straight back while he tapped his foot impatiently. He looked as if he were waiting for the younger lad to change his direction and walk towards him instead.

 

Harry rolled his eyes at the older boy, “You can’t stop me from going home forever, Louis.” he groaned.

 

 “I can try, Harry, I can try.” He said bitterly, grabbing his young friends hand and pulling him in the opposite direction. “I just don’t want you to go back there.” Louis continued in a whisper so low that Harry barely heard it. The youngster sighed in defeat and let Louis lead the way, following behind obediently.

 

 “Thanks Lou.”  He sighed to Louis after he had sped up his pace to match his. Harry looked at their interlocked hands and tried to hide a smile.

 

Louis smiled and squeezed Harry’s hand tighter, “For what?”

 

 “Everything, I guess.”  There was no verbal response from the older boy, but Harry knew that he heard him, and that was enough for them to continue their walk peacefully.


	10. Niall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse and worse for Niall, but he thinks he might have found one person who can stop the rain from falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.
> 
> check out my tumblr, doingitallwithyou, for more one shots and stuff! :)
> 
> Also holy shit, over 2000 hits? You guys are incredible! Please let me know what you think of this chapter. This is one of my favorites, just because I'm going through a Niall phase.

After Louis had called everyone the previous night it really hadn’t taken much convincing to get them over to his place, all he had to do was ask and they were on their way. And that sort of surprised Louis. Because last time he checked Zayn had punched Niall in the face and Liam was about ready to strangle him and it was all just a big mess. But he soon realized that the tension was still thick enough to saw through it with a knife, Niall was sort of terrified of Zayn, and Liam was always a second away from murdering him.

But now Niall was waking up after that night and he had the inevitable slamming headache that he always had after one of these nights. Though he could actually remember events from last night since he decided he wasn’t in the mood to get plastered (although he couldn’t say the same for Harry and Louis).  It really wasn’t one of the wild things that they usually got themselves into, it was rather chill actually. Just the boys getting together to play video games, eat as much shit as possible, maybe drink and smoke a bit. The groggy blonde rolled beneath Liam’s arm and pulled himself from Louis’ plush sofa; he rubbed at his tired eyes and stretched his back with a satisfying pop before he actually looked around. Obviously Liam had been on the couch beside him, and was now slowly stirring awake, and Zayn was just coming in from the kitchen with a bowl of cereal in his hand.

He looked Niall up and down sort of uncomfortably before shoving another spoonful in his mouth, “Mornin’.”

 

Niall looked down, not meeting his eyes, “Yeah, morning.”  

 

Zayn could tell that Niall didn’t want to talk to him but he couldn’t help trying, “Where’re Harry and Lou?”

                

“They passed out in Lou’s room last night.” Niall mumbled, eyeing the way milk seeped from the corner of Zayn’s lips as he ate and for a second he almost wanted to laugh. But he didn’t and Zayn didn’t seem to expect him to. Zayn nodded his head and turned on his heel as he heard light footsteps pad down the hall towards them. Liam finally sat upright and the three of them turned their heads to watch the other two. Niall was confused as he observed them, Harry looked awkward and tense as he walked behind Louis, who looked confused and slightly pissed off.

               

Liam leaned forward from his seat to reach Niall’s ear, his warm breath sent a chill down Niall’s back, “What happened?” his eyes were curious, but he didn’t sound too worried. Niall shrugged in response and just kept watching them throughout the morning. They refused to be within three feet of each other. As soon as one would come closer the other one would practically run away.

 

Nobody said anything; the three others merely tossed each other confused glances every so often. But after sitting uncomfortably between a fidgeting Harry and a steaming Louis, Niall decided it was about time he headed off, “Right then, I’ll see you lot later.” He met Liam’s piercing eyes, clouded with fear and urgency as soon as Niall mentioned leaving. “I’ll be fine, mate.” He passed by all of the lads and waved quickly before heading out the door.

               

The cold air nipped harshly at his cheeks as he braced himself during the walk home. He wasn’t exactly sure what he expected to be awaiting him when he arrived, maybe his mum would be feeling better or his dad would be sober. Or maybe his dad will be bitter and intoxicated again, and then his mother will be exhausted and lying in bed, again. That sounded a bit more plausible to Niall and it caused his stomach to churn uncomfortably. His feet slowed their pace as his mind suggested that maybe he should just be taking his time, considering he really was in no rush at all. His shaking hands shoved deeper into the pocket of his light sweater and he looked up from his Supra covered feet, realizing that he actually had no idea how to get home. He had never walked to Louis’ by himself before; he had always had one of the others with him to show the way.

               

“Fucking hell…” He cursed and stopped in his tracks, looking full circle around himself, confirming that he didn’t recognize anything that surrounded him. “Shit.” He turned to go back the way he came and found that equally as hopeless as soon as he realized that every single house in the entire bloody neighborhood looked identical. He ran a hand over his face and sighed tiredly before he finally decided to call Liam.

               

The line hardly got through a full ring when the deep voice answered, “Niall? Niall what’s up?”  Niall sighed at Liam’s already evident worry; he hadn’t even gotten a word out yet, for Christ’s sake.

               

 “I’m fucking lost.” His accent was condemnatory as he once again attempted to retrace his steps.           

               

He heard Liam sigh lightly and try to hold back a small chuckle, “Ugh, this isn’t fucking funny, Liam.” Niall hissed.

 

“Okay, okay, you’re right.”  He apologized, although the humor still lingered slightly in his voice, “Erm, let’s see. Can you tell me what street you’re on?”

 

“No. I can’t.”  Sarcasm oozed off Niall’s tongue like venom and he sat himself down in the soft grass in front of someone’s house, not really caring who it belonged to.

 

Liam clicked his tongue, “Fine, if you don’t want me to help you…”  He trailed off. The blonde sighed, he knew Liam wouldn’t actually abandon him, but he complied anyways.

 

“Ehm okay, let me look.”  Niall craned his neck to look for a street sign, “Crossroad between Turner and Trenchover…”

 

“Shit, Niall. How did you get that far and not realize it?” Liam sounded genuinely shocked when he found out where Niall actually had landed himself. Niall could practically hear him rolling his eyes through the phone. “Want me to come get you?”

 

“Just tell me where I am.”

 

“You’re headed in the opposite direction of your house, Niall. It’ll take at least an hour for you to get back, now. Just let me come get you.”  Liam reasoned.

 

The tired blonde groaned and finally agreed before shoving his phone back down into his pocket. The mid-afternoon sun was beating down on his back, quickly warming him up despite the chilled temperatures. He began to fiddle with a piece of grass in between his index finger and thumb as he waited for Liam to arrive, wondering just how far he had wandered off when he didn’t show up after about twenty minutes. He was getting antsy and instead of just pulling one blade from the ground Niall now had a pretty decent sized pile of grass before him. His hand was grasped tightly around the blades and was getting ready to pull when he finally heard Liam yell to him from the road. Niall shoved himself from the ground and brushed the green from his trousers, returning Liam’s smile as he approached the vehicle.

“‘Bout time you showed up, feels like I’ve been waiting fucking years.”  The blonde settled in his seat, “Oh!” his eyes brightened when he noticed a packet of M&Ms sitting in the center console. He tore the pack open and dumped multiple colored candies in his mouth.

 

“Sure, you can have some.”  Liam laughed, “And I told you that you had gone far off.” Niall smiled cheekily and shrugged his shoulders before popping another sweet between his lips. “So Zayn mentioned something about a sort of rave... party… thing tonight, you planning on going?” Liam asked, glancing at Niall momentarily from his peripherals before looking back to the road. The blonde looked back at his friend and nodded his head, although he hadn’t heard anything about this party. Liam grinned as they pulled up into the cobblestone driveway of Niall’s home, “Cool, then. I’ll pick you up a bit later.” Liam looked at Niall with serious eyes that followed him as he moved to exit the vehicle, “Okay?”

 

“‘Course, Li, I’ll see you then.”  Sweet caramel eyes conversed silently with the serene blue. They told him to be careful, that he was just a call away if things got out of hand, that if he needed him Niall wasn’t to hesitate to call. A sigh escaped the lips of the rose flushed lad before a reassuring smile arrived, “I’ll be fine.”

 

Liam just eyed him wearily and nodded his head. He shifted the gears as if he were to pull away from where Niall stood on the curb but he remained still. The shorter blonde cocked his head to the side and sighed heavily, “Liam.”  

 

“Niall.”  He mimicked the tone but added something more, something that made him sound a bit desperate. More hot air left Niall’s lungs.

 

“I’m serious, mate.”  He said, leaning in through the opened passenger window.

 

Liam nodded his head once and his gaze casted downwards, “Right, I know.”  Niall grinned again and punched his friends shoulder lightly before turning his back and walking towards his home. He could feel the warm chocolate gaze burning holes in his back but he didn’t turn around as he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The door came to a close quietly behind him and he cleared his throat.

 

“Mum?”  He called out, feet padding along the carpeted foyer. There was no response. He gulped loudly and spoke again, “dad?”  

 

The house was still ghostly silent as he turned the corner and walked down the hallway towards his parents’ bedroom. He noticed the door was already wide open, he peered inside and froze. Blue eyes landed first on a hunched over figure sat on the bed, face cradled in hands, and then on a nearly empty Jack Daniels bottle placed on the wooden bedside table.

“Dad?” Niall said quietly, creeping towards the man who now slouched less than four feet from him. “What’s the matter?”

 

Muffled words that Niall couldn’t understand came from his father.

“What was that? Dad, what’s wrong?” He tried again, now moving to sit at a relatively safe distance next to him on the bed.

 

“She’s gone.”

 

Panic struck Niall hard as the words left his father’s lips, “Who’s gone, Dad...”

 

“Your mum. She left.”  He said, finally lifting his head from his hands. His face was tinted a red color and his pupils were dilated in his milky eyes. Niall’s voice was caught in his throat as he stared at the man before him. What did he mean his mum had left? Had she just packed her bags and abandoned them? Had she left a note? Any reasoning behind her departure? 

 

“Why?” His voice broke on that one word.

 

“I don’t fucking know. I don’t _fucking know_ **!** ”  The vain in his father’s neck pulsed angrily. He stood up from the bed and waved his hand around at open air until it found the glass bottle. Niall’s eyes glassed over as his father stumbled closer to him.

 

Words scratched in his mouth, they pushed their way to the top of his dry and burning throat, coming out in a low and hitched voice, “Did she leave anything behind? Like a note or something?”  A cruel smile pulled at his father’s lips and a hearty laugh shook his chest.

 

“Nope,” He shook his head, dark and sullen eyes piercing into his son, making him fidget where he sat, “took everythin’ with ‘er, no note. No nothin’.” He laughed darkly, “Bet ‘ts your fault. Not being ‘round much, bein’ lazy, she probably got tired of doing everythin’ ‘erself!” He spat, now leaning down in Niall’s face, allowing the familiar and grotesque scented breath to wash over his face. It caused him to crinkle his nose and turn away. Niall groaned internally. How could his father say that he had been the one to never help his mum out? As he recalled he tended to his mother’s every need, he cared for her, made her meals in bed, cleaned up after his rampaging father when she was in too much pain or was too exhausted to move. How dare he say he never helped out?

Of course Niall didn’t want to just sit there and let himself get screamed at, no teenager wanted to let themselves get pushed around, stomped all over, taken advantage of and treated as a weak fool. But there are some situations when you just have to let it happen, and this was usually one of those cases. When the meter in his father’s head reaches maximum overload, the best he can do is hope that the outcome wouldn’t be as severe as the previous occurrence. If that’s true, though, why was Niall no longer sitting on the bed? Why was he now just as much in his father’s face as his father was in his? Why was Niall now screaming equally terribly and horrible things back towards the red-faced man?

Because he finally had enough.  Even when his father threw the first punch that connected satisfyingly with Niall’s jaw, he didn’t back down. This time he retaliated with his own fist, sending it precisely towards his father’s nose with an audible crack. A gasp escaped his dad’s lips as his hands flew to his now bleeding nose; Niall’s crystalline eyes grew wide with horror as he realized what he had just done. His mind worked quickly and in a second his feet were moving out of the room and down the hallway, he heard his father grunt and begin after him. He knew he wasn’t far behind and he also was aware that unless he made it out the front door, he was in for it.

“You fuckin’ come back ‘ere!”  The angry voice shouted from a short distance behind him. Niall turned his head and saw his father with his hand bloodied and covering his nose, less than a step behind him. Soon his father’s body collided with his own, sending them in a mish-mash of limbs rolling to the floor. It was hard for Niall to tell how many times he had been struck during the altercation, the same as it had been hard for him to tell how many times he had been able to strike himself, although he was sure his fist connected with a fleshy surface a decent number of times.

 

Niall finally rolled from his elders reach and stood himself up, pointing a shaky finger at the man as he wiped warm liquid from his lip, “You’re fucking mad!”  His father just groaned and rolled to his side, turning his face away from his badly bruised son. “Fucking. Mad.” The boy repeated, heading for the door. He was well aware of the shooting pain in his side; it was probably that damned bruise that still had refused to fade, freshened by the blows recently inflicted. There was a steady stream of blood oozing from his lip that he dabbed at with his black hoodie and he was pretty damn sure that his eye, if not both of them, was once again blackened. Outside in the crisp autumn air again he lifted his face to the sun, allowing it to beat down upon him.

 

“Fucking why?” He murmured, to nobody in particular, maybe just to himself or maybe to the big man himself. “Why?” Niall felt the tears threatening to escape his swollen eyes and he really didn’t want to let them loose, but he was just so overwhelmed. He felt that he had a good reason to be upset and if anyone had a problem with it they could take a first class flight down to hell.

Minutes, even hours, passed as tears silently ran down his face. Niall just sat there, head in hands, crying, wondering why this was the life he was given. He took in one deep breath and pulled out his phone, fingers danced across the keyboard, from the angle he was seeing his hands he admired his bloody knuckles. From the damage they had he must have gotten a few good rounds in.

Liam answered, as always, on just the second ring. “Hello?”

 

“Hey…” Nialls voice sounded quieter and more helpless than he intended “Will you-”

 

Liam’s silky smooth voice was interrupting him as soon as the sentence was slipping off of his own tongue, before he could even finish it. “On my way.”

 

Reckless driving wasn’t something Liam usually did, but in this case, he felt that it was necessary. Actually any situation involving Niall made it necessary. He sped through the streets, dangerously running over curbs as he turned, cutting other vehicles off as he switched lanes and nearly causing multiple collisions. He skidded to a stop in front of Niall’s home in record timing.

The younger lad saw his friend arrive and moved to make his way towards the car but was instantly taken aback when Liam shot from the vehicle.

“Where the fuck is he?” He growled, stomping up to Niall protectively and peering down at him with flames in his eyes.

 

Something about the way the vein in Liam’s neck pulsed slightly scared Niall, “Liam,” he grabbed his mates arm as he tried to weave around him to reach the front door, “don’t.”

 

It took every bit of will power that Liam contained not to tug away from Niall’s grip and barge into that house and literally destroy that man, but he controlled himself and he listened. He took a deep breath and stepped back to assess the damage that had been done. He took in the blackened eye, the swollen lip. And his younger friend obviously had other injuries that weren’t visible, as it showed in the way he crinkled his nose and squinted his eyes in pain.

“You’re going to call the police, right?” Liam finally asked, leading Niall towards the car. He looked at his friend with shocked eyes as he shook his head.  _“No?”_

 

“I can’t, Liam. He’s all I’ve got.”  He said quietly, continuing on towards where Liam had parked while his friend stayed frozen in his place.

 

Liam remained silent for a second, “What do you mean, ‘he’s all you’ve got’?” he caught up and slid in the driver’s seat beside him.

 

“My mum left.” Niall said bluntly, staring straight out the front window with empty sapphire eyes. Liam turned to him then, mouth ajar, words unspoken, and eyes wide.

 

“Niall- I- What? When?”  He finally stuttered.

 

“Today.”

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Liam asked slowly, trying to meet his younger friends gaze, trying to ignore the tears in Niall’s eyes.

 

“No.” Liam’s eyes fogged over sadly and he nodded his head and responded in quiet understanding before he actually got around to starting the engine.

 

“What time is that er-party thing?”  Niall finally broke his distant stare and turned to face Liam.

 

“Few minutes, actually. We can head over now, if you’d like…”

 

“Alright.”  He went back to staring. Liam wanted to tell him that the cut on his lip should be cleaned, actually disinfected, and he should probably check into the hospital just in case. But he knew Niall better than that. He knew Niall wouldn’t have any of it, and so he kept driving until they reached the secret location and he saw their friends standing in a group outside.

                

“I see Haz and Louis haven’t gotten over whatever had them bitchy this morning…” Liam sighed, waiting for Niall to arrive at his side. Once the blonde reached him he threw an arm around his shoulder and walked with him towards their friends, ultimately meeting each of their gazes with silent messages that said “Don’t say anything.” They complied with worried glances and sad nods before sporting welcoming smiles and cheery greetings.

               

Niall smiled at them, or, as well as he could, anyway. It probably came out as more of a grimace with his swollen lip, but he pretended he didn’t notice and his friends also ignored it, so it ended out working perfectly fine throughout the evening. Which was filled with plenty of things to get Niall’s mind off of recent events. Besides the obvious Harry and Louis tension and Liam and Zayn tension, everyone had an absolute blast. They, excluding Liam, decided tonight if any night, would be the best night to drop the try ecstacy, which Zayn pulled out just before walking through the door. His hand had been filled with tiny rainbow pills and he instructed each of them to take one each, and soon they were all flying. They felt the deep bass bump through their stomach and shake their lungs, their minds flew, and their bodies melted together, blending with the flashing lights. The music fueled Niall’s movements and he just wanted someone to touch him or to touch someone and he felt great. He danced with girls that didn’t feel right in his brain but felt right in his blood where the ecstasy was flaming hot. They pressed their sticky lipglossed lips to his neck and he’d let them because he _needed_ to be touched. The drugs made him dance and every touch against his skin was like a spark and Niall smiled and smiled all night.

But once the girls were gone, probably off finding a new boy to fill their own needs, Niall needed more. He needed someone. He danced through the crowd, grinding with so many different people as he weaved through until he found Liam. The taller boy was sitting off to the side, tapping away on his phone, looking tired but not bored. He looked up when Niall approached him and he grinned wide, almost laughing at Niall’s blown pupils and his obvious need to feel something. So Liam let Niall pull him back to the dance floor and he let Niall stand in front of him and grind against his crotch. Liam placed his hands on Niall’s hips and he grinded back, squeezing the smaller boy’s hips with his big hands. Niall was loving it. He loved the feel of Liam’s strong hands and his almost hard on against his bum and he couldn’t tell if it was the drugs making him feel this way or if it was just Liam. Niall’s heart was beating fast and he just wanted to _kiss_ someone, and so he did. He grabbed Liam by the back of his neck and pulled him down to meet his lips.

Liam was hesitant, very hesitant. He’d never thought of kissing a bloke before or dancing with a bloke and _fuck_ Niall’s tongue was in his mouth. Niall’s breath was hot and sweet and Liam suddenly felt like he never wanted this to stop. Liam loved the way Niall’s bum pressed into him and the way his small hips fit perfectly in his fingers, but maybe this didn’t mean anything to Niall like it did for him. Drugs were coursing through Niall’s veins but Liam was sober. Still he kissed back, trying to return Niall’s excitement but it didn’t feel right anymore Liam like it felt for Niall. But boy did it feel right for Niall. He wanted to feel this amazing all the time. He felt on top of the world as he kissed Liam with fervor, nibbling on his lip and basking in the way Liam’s tongue felt against his own. Until Liam pulled away.

He looked down at Niall who looked back with dark eyes and a slack mouth and for a second Liam was almost scared. Niall was on drugs and maybe Liam wasn’t doing the right thing; Niall obviously wasn’t thinking straight and what if Liam was taking advantage of him. A hand snaked down to cup Liam’s near erection and he gasped loudly.

He lightly pushed Niall’s hand away as it reached to pull his face back down, “Niall I- I don’t think I should be doing this.” And then Liam was gone and suddenly Niall felt sick. He spent the next couple hours in the bathroom puking up the contents of his stomach.

\--

When it was finally time to go home and the music died down and the crowd slowly left, Niall was exhausted. But his poor mind was still racing and his heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest and he’s pretty sure he kissed Liam which is a problem. Niall wanted nothing more than to just go home and collapse in bed and he was honestly thankful when Liam offered to give him a ride home, even if the twenty minutes it took to get there was going to be awkward as all hell. He just couldn’t wait to sleep and he honestly didn’t even care how the rest of his mates made it home.              

                

After nearly the entire car ride of tense silence Liam cleared his throat, “Mind if I crash at your place? I’m beat.” He asked tiredly, almost nervously as they were pulling in front of the house. The sun was just breaking over the horizon and Liam felt like he could hardly keep his eyes open.

                

“Yeah, no… Of course.” Niall mumbled, wiggling his way out of his seat and stumbling into the house. He was careful of his footsteps and he tiptoed towards his bedroom, turning behind him to signal for Liam to also remain quiet. The brunette boy complied and followed behind Niall silently. Once inside of the bedroom the fair haired boy created a plush bed of blankets on the floor and plopped himself down, he was out like a light in a matter of seconds. Liam sighed light heartedly before he kicked off his shoes and laid himself in Niall’s bed, thinking silently that he would have gladly of taken the floor. Or maybe even been okay with sharing a bed. No, no Liam wasn’t supposed to think like that and he shook his head. He tried to rid his mind of those thoughts and he eventually dozed off.

               

That next morning, or a few hours later, Niall awoke with his body sore as can be. He looked to see that Liam was still asleep before he checked the damage in the mirror that hung on the door. The bruise on his side was more painful and probably worse off than it has ever been. His eye wasn’t as bad as he thought it to be, which he was highly grateful for. There was just a small slit on his lip and a bit of swelling, along with several cuts along his knuckles and multiple bruises scattered over his body. He groaned and turned to Liam, who had begun to stir.

 “Mornin’.” Niall smiled, thinking for a moment how nice Liam looked when he’s just woke up.

               

 “Good morning.”  He yawned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. They stood in awkward silence for a moment before Niall suggested they go get something to eat, which Liam was quick to accept, seeing as he was starved. As Niall entered the kitchen he wondered when they were going to talk about what happened or if they were going to just pretend it didn’t.  He almost said something but he was stopped in his tracks; his father sat at the breakfast bar. Niall was frightened, but was definitely satisfied to see the bruises that littered the man’s face and the bent shape of his nose and he felt safer with Liam standing close behind him.

               

Bobby tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace, “Morning, Niall.” He said skeptically, as if he were sort of testing the waters, just dipping his toes in to see how Niall would react before getting up and starting to leave the kitchen. The boy just nodded in his direction and retrieved two bowls from the cupboard, following with milk and several boxes of cereal to choose from.

               

Obviously still avoiding his father’s gaze he turned to Liam, who had followed him like a shadow. “Take your pick.” He said, already stuffing his mouth with a spoonful of Fruity Pebbles. Liam looked back and forth between the boxes and reached out in front of Niall to grab one, but froze as he felt Niall’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

                

“What the  _fuck_  are these, Liam.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Please Please let me know what you guys think! Should i have more romance?


	11. Liam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam breaks his promises and it seems that him and Niall still aren't being completely honest with one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that my update day will be friday! It seems to be the only day that i have time to do it haha.  
>  but holy shit! over 2.5k hits? You guys are incredible! :) x
> 
> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.

_Shit. Shit shit shit._

 

Liam had been caught; the scars and fresh wounds on his wrists had been spotted by his best friend. His own dark eyes trailed along his arm to where Niall’s hand gripped it firmly, he didn’t say anything and he only tried to pull away, tugging lightly against the younger lads hold.

“No, Liam, what the fuck are these?” It wasn’t anger that stung his blonde friend’s voice; it was hurt, pain, fear, sadness. “Liam please-”

 

“You wouldn’t understand…” Liam whispered. He could feel the heat begin to press against his eyes, that painful pressure that signaled the breakdown.

 

Niall let out an almost animal-like whine, “Then help me try to understand!” he was slightly taken aback at how quickly Niall turned forceful and just stared at the boy with widened eyes. Liam didn’t know how to make him understand. Nobody could possibly understand the way he felt so fucking empty all the time, the way he wished for death constantly or how he wants to be left alone and doesn’t want to see anyone and how he just can’t help himself anymore. Nobody can help him anymore.

 

Niall moved his hand from Liam’s arm to his hand, intertwining their fingers and squeezing softly, “Please help me to understand.” His voice was soft again and he met Liam’s gaze with a pair of heartwarming sapphire eyes. “Please.”

 

Liam sighed deeply; air filled his lungs to maximum capacity. “Niall I can’t…” He tried to pull his arm away again.

 

A look of shock washed over Niall’s face, quickly being replaced with anger “No! Why won’t you just tell me? Do you know how scary this is for me, knowing you’re in pain and I didn’t even notice? That I am just now finding out that you’re hurting yourself?” Liam looked at Niall, wincing when he finally noticed how wrecked Niall was. Completely crushed and honestly it was breaking his heart.

 

“I’m sorry, Nialler.” He mumbled, now refusing to meet the blue eyes that still burned into him. Liam pried Niall’s fingers from his own and moved to the other side of the kitchen to sit at the counter. He tried to ignore the look of desperation painted on Niall’s face.

 

“Why would you do that to yourself, Li?” He asked, following behind Liam and sitting beside him.

 

Liam sighed again, realizing that Niall would not let this go, “Everything! I’m so fucking tired of everything; I feel alone, I feel empty, and sad. So fucking sad all the fucking time…” He sobbed, shoving his hands through his hair before placing his face in his arms. “Do you know what it’s like to wake up every morning and just wish that you hadn’t, to just wish that you could sleep forever? Because that’s how I feel Niall. And I can’t tell anybody, I feel alone, and I have no way of letting out my frustrations. I’ve been keeping everything inside for just so damn long, and…and then I found an escape.”

 

“No, not this, Liam. This isn’t a fucking escape.” His careful fingers danced across the marks that littered Liam’s tanned arm.

 

Liam shook his head, “It clears my head and stops all of the pain. I- And I don’t even feel anything, it’s like I’m numb, and sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing…”  

 

“You’ve got to get help…” Niall whispered, fingers still lingering on the freshest cut.

 

He shook his head, “I can’t…” Liam said quietly, finally meeting his friend’s stare, “I would get sent away, or something. I’d have to leave Ruthie behind. There’d be nobody to look after her!”

 

“Your mum will be there, wouldn’t she?”

 

“No, well yeah, but she might as well be gone.” Liam huffed, tugging his sleeves over his fingers and crossing his arms over the counter.

 

Niall cocked his head to the side, “What do you mean?”

 

He groaned and pressed his forehead to the cool granite, when he spoke his words were muffled, “She hardly leaves her room anymore, I’m practically my little sisters father. I can’t raise a ten year old by myself, that’s not my job, that’s my mum’s job, and she can’t even get out of bed to make something to eat! I’m going crazy, Niall. I’m going absolutely mad.” He lifted his head and met the worried eyes, “And I really don’t want to end up like her, I really don’t… But I just can’t help it anymore.”

 

Niall sighed sadly and removed himself from his stool; he stepped towards Liam and pulled him into a tight hug. It was weird, Liam thought, how tables had turned. Usually he was the one comforting Niall, but now the other boy was the one consoling him, trying to make him feel better, and he was grateful for it. It felt nice to have someone there to finally listen to him. Niall was shorter than Liam, so Niall’s head pressed against Liam’s chest, tickling his nose and chin. But he just smiled and pressed his cheek to the head of blonde hair and as he squeezed Niall tight something fluttered inside him and suddenly he didn’t feel so cold or alone. He felt warm and safe and _happy._

Niall pulled away but left a hand on his shoulder, his fingers twiddled the fabric of Liam’s shirt idly, “You know I’m always here, right Liam? Always.”

 

Liam shook his head, frowning at how cold it seems without Niall in his arms, “I know, I just,” He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair, which was starting to resemble Harry’s unruly curls more and more each minute, “I know.”

 

“And you’re going to stop, aren’t you?” Niall pressed.

 

“Niall-“

 

“Aren’t you?” Liam couldn’t say anything but yes when he looked into Niall’s eyes. He couldn’t hurt him any more than he already had. He agreed that he would quit.

 

“Good.” Niall smiled, pulling Liam into another embrace.

 

“I should head home, to check on Ruth…” Liam trailed off, not really wanting to let go of Niall. He wasn’t ready to let go but he did anyways.

 

“Yeah, yeah right, of course.” Niall nodded, walking his friend to the door, almost hesitantly.

 

“Thanks, Niall I-” Liam paused, not entirely sure what to say and suddenly he felt extremely awkward and he really just wanted to kiss Niall’s pink lips, “Erm, you’re a good mate.”

 

Niall’s smile faltered momentarily and his mouth parted as if he wanted to say something, but he shook his head. Like he filtered his thoughts before speaking, “It’s what I’m here for.” And then he was closing the door and Liam walked down the path to his car. The drive was short, and he walked briskly to his front door, cursing when he realized that he had forgotten to lock it the night before. He shuffled into the foyer and called for Ruthie, but quickly covered his mouth when he found her asleep on the couch. A smile grew to his lips and he headed upstairs. His face twisted when he noticed the mess that littered the hallway, his mother had obviously not done any cleaning. Of course she hadn’t.

 

Shower, he needed to shower. Liam needed to clear his mind.

The bathroom wasn’t much cleaner than the rest of the house and he decided that after he cleansed himself he would get on that. Soon steam filled the small room and he could already feel his muscles beginning to relax, he only needed one more thing. The blade.

 

He knows that he made a promise to Niall, but his skin itched and his thoughts jumbled together, mixing with the dark cloud. It wouldn’t go away until the skin broke, and he knew it.

“Just one.” He whispered, reaching for the scissors. The last thing he saw before the blood started running was Niall’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please leave comments! You have no idea how much it means to me!


	12. Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry fucks up, big time. Louis can't even look at him anymore, but soon that is the least of their worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.
> 
>  
> 
> Two chapters in one day! The last chapter was pretty short, and there wasn't much action. Here's where it gets good! :)

Harry had never felt as alone as he did when walked the rather crowded hallways of the school that day. Each of his friends, all but Niall (Harry tried not to think that Niall was only here because of his tension with Zayn), had been pointedly ignoring him since they discovered why he and Louis were fighting. His shoulders slumped as his mind replayed that night over and over and he just really wanted to die.

—

_He wasn’t that drunk. He could still think straight. It’s just that he couldn’t really walk in a straight line, is all._

 

_“Have another drink, mate.” Louis had smiled, throwing an arm over his shoulder and letting the beer in his bottle slosh carelessly over the side._

_His drowsy emerald eyes looked around the room at all of his friends; Zayn had been casually sipping from his own bottle as he watched a drunken game of Mario Kart take place between Niall and Liam._

_“Sure, why not.” Harry grabbed the bottle from his friend and smiled, “cheers mate.” Louis nodded his head and Harry was almost sure he winked. But his mouth was really dry and for some reason Louis looked so pretty and couldn’t help it as he stared at the way Louis’ lips wrapped around his bottle of beer._

_Harry wasn’t that drunk, none of them were. It was a delightful buzz that was mutual among the five of them. They hadn’t done anything crazy; they all kept to their own thing like video games or playing on their mobile until they fell asleep. And Harry had noticed Louis’ head had been bobbing to the side for the last fifteen minutes(not that he had been watching him that long), and sighed lightly before finally shaking his friend to full awareness, “Lou you’re about to pass out, les’ go to bed, yeah?”_

_Louis nodded his head sleepily and rubbed at his eyes, cracking a smile when he noticed the rest of their friends had already passed out in various places around the room. Louis stood up and followed behind Harry, gratefully accepting the hand that offered to lead the way. And Harry always shared Louis’ bed when he stayed the night, so it hadn’t surprised the older boy a bit when he felt the left side of the mattress depress and then the sudden heat of another presence. He had already been half asleep upon laying his head down, but his eyes flew open as he felt a warm pressure on his lips._

_“Goodnight, Lou.”_

_Before Harry could realize what he was doing he was kissing Louis. Like, kissing him. On the lips. And Harry wasn’t gay at all and he didn’t think he liked blokes but Louis’ lips were so soft and maybe this felt right. But Harry shook his head, this wasn’t right. This was Louis. His best friend Louis, his platonic best mate and **fuck** he just kissed his best mate and he really didn’t have a good excuse as to why._

 

_“Harry-?” He questioned, eyes narrowing with skepticism. Harry didn’t know what came over him but he pressed his lips to Louis’ again and before he knew it he felt a tongue on his own and damn it tasted good and felt good. After they kissed for what seemed like ages Louis finally was too exhausted and fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow and Harry knew he had made a huge mistake._

_In the morning everything came back like a giant wave, Harry remembered what he did the night before and realized he probably just ruined the best relationship he’s ever had. He wanted to just cry and to run from the room; to hide and make sure Louis couldn’t see him. Harry couldn’t face his friend, not after he had **played**  him that way._ _Harry didn’t know how strong Louis’ feelings were for him but he knew they were there. And Harry just played with them; he played with Louis’ feelings. He knew Louis wasn’t to be toyed with, and that’s exactly what Harry did. Long and shaking fingers grabbed and pulled at his curls as he tried to decide what to do._

_Run_

_Stay_

_Run?_

_No, stay._

_  
But he didn’t want to face Louis and he felt his heart drop into his stomach when he heard a small groan from beside him on the bed, “Harry?” He’ll stay._

_“Morning, Lou.” He said slowly, eyeing Louis from his peripherals. It was the calm before the storm and it was only a matter of time before Lou exploded._

_“You kissed me.” He had stated, piercing through Harry with shockingly emotional blue eyes._

_“I know.” Harry answered, turning his gaze away, not being able to handle how badly it broke his heart to see the look in his friend’s eye._

 

_“Why, Harry?”  He finally asked after moments of torturous silence. “Why?”_

_“Louis, I don’t know…” Harry pleaded, turning again to look at him._

_“I’m not a fucking hobby, Harry. You aren’t taking up bloody canoeing here! You can’t just do this to me when you want a quick shag.” Harry flinched at the words that spat out of Louis’ mouth; it pained him because he knew they were true, or partially at least. Harry wanted someone to kiss, sure. But he didn’t know why he chose to kiss Louis._

_“I know, Lou… I didn’t mean for it to happen, I just-“_

_“You just what? You just thought because I’m gay that I would just give you a go and not care if you threw me off the next day? You thought that just because we’re mates it wouldn’t hurt just as bad? I may fancy you Harry, but I’m not in_ love _with you.”  Louis was whispering, but just barely. His voice was strained and intense, obviously working hard not to crack or grow louder at risk of waking up the entire house._

_Harry tried not to think about how much Louis’ words hurt and suddenly he wished that maybe Louis was in love with him, “You know that’s not it!” He whispered, trying to plead more with his eyes than he did with his words._

_Louis scoffed and shook his head, “Then what is it, Harry? Was it just for fun? Shits and giggles?”_

_Harry was at a loss for words, he just stared at his friend with his mouth popped open and his eyes wide. Louis glared back and shook his hair out, he got himself out of the bed as he heard the rest of the boys begin to awake from the other room. Louis walked hastily to the source of the noise and Harry followed in suit, feeling awkward and also feeling the absolute fury that was radiating from Louis._

 

—

Harry now sat alone next to Niall at a table in the common room; his cheek lay flat against the cool wood and his foot tapped idly against the hard tiles. He stared at his friends and Eleanor blinked right back. Zayn glared back, shooting daggers into Harry. The curly haired boy cringed, knowing that Zayn was furious.

_—_

_Monday morning had rolled around, meaning Harry finally had to drag himself out of his bed and face Louis at class. It was a painful process for Harry; his stomach twisted uncomfortably the entire drive to school, his head pounded and his heart raced as if it was going to jump out of his chest. And as his mum pulled up to the school all he could do was hope that Louis would be civil around their friends, he couldn’t even imagine what would happen if they found out what he did. He walked across the courtyard slowly, trying to drag on the distance as much as possible. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he whipped around._

_“What the **fuck** , Harry?”  It was Zayn, and he had looked absolutely livid. _

_While Harry immediately knew what he was on about he tried to play it off, “What’s your fucking problem, mate?” He asked, trying to brush his friend’s hand from his shoulder only resulting in Zayn clenching it tighter in his fingers._

_._

_“You’re my fucking problem.” Harry had no time to react as the fist connect with his jaw, “You think you can fucking play with Lou like that? He isn’t a fucking toy Harry, and you treated him like one. You’re nothing but a twat and a **slut**.” Zayn practically spat, taking a step back and eyeing Harry almost sadly._ _Harry couldn’t even respond as Zayn stomped away, shaking out the hand that he had used to hit him. And fuck. If Zayn knew, each of his friends knew. And if Zayn was that pissed off, how mad were the rest of them going to be? That question was answered throughout the day. Liam tried to play devil’s advocate; he wanted Louis and Harry to work out their problems and he tried to see things from both sides. Danielle sided with Zayn, ultimately deciding that Harry was nothing but a piece of scum that needed to be socked in the face a few times. Eleanor just clicked her tongue and sighed, probably remaining neutral. She hadn’t spoken to Harry at all, in fact, she hasn’t talked to either of them much these past few weeks. Niall, on the complete other hand, generally stuck by Harry. No, he didn’t agree with the situation, or believe that what he did was right, but he was a good friend. He couldn’t stand someone he cared about being pushed to the side for one mistake, and he was just trying to be there for Harry.. Harry appreciated that, especially when he realized he would have been completely without him. But Harry couldn’t help but think that maybe something was going on with Niall; the way Liam stared at him, almost with longing, seemed to make Niall’s cheeks flush red. That was something Harry would dive into once he sorted out everything else._

 

_And Louis hadn’t exactly been pleasant; not to say that he was vicious towards Harry, he just ignored his existence that entire first day. He refused to look at him, make eye contact, touch him, walk next to him, or even sit beside him in the three courses they had together. It crushed Harry knowing how bad he had screwed up and he felt so stupid. Because of his stupid actions it seemed that their entire group was choosing sides and it was all his fault._

_He had to fix this._

 

_—_

 

It was Thursday now and things had changed entirely. Somewhere in those four days Niall and Harry had become a team of two, with the occasional Liam popping in every now and then, though Harry sort of believed it was to check on Niall. Eleanor had completely distanced herself from the group; Harry doesn’t even recall seeing her around campus at all the past few days. Louis had fallen to silence, well as Harry could tell from his distance, he had. Louis sulked around the hallways but had now started to actually look at the curly haired boy, which was a step-up from ignoring his existence, he supposed. Danielle and Zayn still hated his guts, which he had sort of gotten over. And Niall still stood by him, chattering cheerfully when Harry was down and inviting him to go out to eat instead of staying in the lunchroom, because he knew it made the younger lad uncomfortable. Niall even started going out with Harry until late hours of the night, despite having school the next morning. It seemed they were good for each other, Niall and Harry. Their own personal issues balanced one another out and together it seemed as if they could, if even for a moment, pretend that things were alright. But as Thursday came to a close Harry just wanted to be alone. He didn’t want to get drunk or get high or even just play video games with Niall. He just wanted to go home.

When Niall had asked him to go out for a bit he had to solemnly shake his head, “Not really feelin’ it today, mate. Maybe tomorrow, yeah?” Niall looked slightly disappointed, whether it was because Harry had refused his offer to hangout, or because he himself had to go home, Harry couldn’t tell. He waved goodbye to his blonde friend and smiled, promising again to see him tomorrow. The bus was scheduled to be around there and Harry sort of felt lucky, he’d have thrown a fit if he had to walk home. But he climbed onto the bus, taking a seat in the far back. He popped his headphones in his ears and leaned his forehead against the cool glass, peering out the window at the scenes passing by.

Houses, cars, people, trees… Eleanor?

Was that Eleanor Harry just saw?

 He moved to back window and looked again, searching for the familiar face. He spotted her outside of a pub in the distance, seemingly fighting with a guy who he assumed to be her boyfriend. Something twisted in Harry’s stomach as he watched them grow smaller and smaller. It told him he should get off of this stupid bus and go check on her, but he didn’t. He couldn’t know for sure that it was Eleanor, but something just didn’t feel right…

But Harry sat back down, relaxing into the seat until the bus came to his stop. He stepped down and walked the last block or so to his house, attempting to slip in unnoticed. It was unsuccessful as always. He ignored his stepfathers shouting and proceeded up to his room, pulling out his phone along the way. A message to Eleanor was typed quickly, just in case.

**Just wanted to check up on ya, haven’t seen you in a few days. Gimme a call when you can. x**

 

Harry tossed his phone lightly to his bed and looked to the doorway, practically waiting for Robin “Oh, fuck off.” Harry whispered, glaring angrily at him as he stomped into the room.

“Who the fuck did you tell, you little prick?” His step-fathers face was red and the veins in his neck were pulsing; he looked absolutely pissed.

Robin was in his face now, “Wha-What?” Harry stuttered. Shit.

“Who. The fuck. Did you tell?” He spat, little flecks of saliva landing on Harrys face from their now close proximity.

“I didn’t tell anybody!” Harry backed away towards his computer desk.

“Bullshit!”  Robin yelled suddenly, causing Harry to flinch back, “If you didn’t fucking tell anyone, where did this fucking letter come from?” His beefy hand held a crushed envelope, with the scratchy handwriting of non-other than Louis Tomlinson.

Harry felt his heart break, “Wh-what does it say?”

Robin chortled and narrowed his eyes, “It says that this person, whoever the hell they may be, is going to contact the police if I don’t pack up my shit and head out.”

“I-i…” Why would Louis do that?

“It came about a week ago, boy.” He stepped closer to Harry, backing him against the desk uncomfortably, “I thought I told you not to tell anyone, or else.”

Harry just tried to close his eyes, letting himself be thrown to the bed on his back, forcing him to stare into his step-fathers angry eyes. Robin didn’t hesitate to rid the boy of his clothes and hike Harry’s legs up around his waist, seeming that he was doing this more to teach Harry a lesson than for his own pleasure. Fingers were inside of him within seconds and Harry bit into his arm, muffling his sobs as Robin went straight in with three fingers and mercilessly fucking him faster and harder than Harry had ever experienced. Trying to scream earned him a blow to the face and Harry tasted blood as his newly busted lips bled down his chin and mixed with his tears.

Robin chortled as he added a fourth finger and slid a hand down Harry’s chest. His beefy had twisted at the boy’s nipple, pinching it and pulling it as Harry sobbed, “You like that, don’t you?” he spat, “ _Slut._ You love having my fingers in your little arse don’t you?” Harry tried to shake his head and he earned a slap to his face, “Say you love having my fingers in your arse. _Beg_ me to give you m’cock.”

Harry tried to protest but Robin placed a large hand around his neck, squeezing until Harry nodded. “I-I I love…” he held back a sab as Robin’s fingers rocked his entire body, “I love your f-fingers in my arse.”

“And?”

“Please- Please give me your c-cock.”

Robin laughed darkly and pulled his fingers out, leaving Harry to wince at the sudden pain of his hole stretching around nothing and before he could move his step-father spat into his hand, pitifully lubing it before lining up. He thrusted into Harry hard enough to rip a scream from the boy’s throat and he went faster and faster and he added three fingers dry. Harry felt like he was being ripped to shreds and he lay there taking it; he let Robin fuck him and punch him and choke him and all Harry wanted to do was die. So he closed his eyes and tried to go somewhere else, anywhere else but here. He thought about Louis and suddenly he felt sort of at peace, despite his situation. But then Robin grunted and released his warm seed into Harry and laughed as he stood over his now limp body. He laughed as the boy curled in on himself and he laughed as sobs shook Harry’s body. Emerald eyes squeezed shut and he pulled the blanket up around him and wincing at the feeling of Robins cum dripping out of him and he waited to hear the door slam shut. When it did he felt a bit of the tension that resided in his muscles disappear, but the pain remained and tears continued to stream down his face. He couldn’t do this anymore; he honestly didn’t think he could live like this. Harry was constantly afraid to come home, to be alone in his own house. He was sick and tired of not feeling safe, and of being in pain all the time.

Harry wanted it to just end. It was going to be Robin, or him.

He had just pulled the covers back and was getting ready to head to the bathroom-- to search for that bottle of pills, when his phone beeped suddenly. Feet froze mid-step and he reached for it, sliding the unlock key to read the message. But it wasn’t a message, it was a call. From Louis.

Harry’s eyes widened and he tried to clear his voice of sobs as he answered.  “L-Louis _?”_  He couldn’t relieve the pain he felt, and more tears pricked at his eyes.

“Harry! Harry, please. Eleanor’s in the hospital, I saw your text on her phone. I-I- please just come down here, okay, please?” Harry was surprised at how urgent and desperate Louis sounded.

 

“Lou-” Harry’s voice cracked with another sob as he spoke, he honestly didn’t think he’d be able to make it there without passing out.

 

“Hazza, _please_ **.** ”

 

“Okay, I’ll be there _.”_  Harry agreed, hanging up his phone. He looked down at what he was wearing, his old sweatpants and a now torn t-shirt. Did he have time for a shower? He didn’t think so, but with the blood stained on his legs and cum tried on his pants Harry really didn’t have a choice.

 

Steaming hot water engulfed his body and he scrubbed pitifully at the skin, wishing he had the time to boil his skin off, but knowing that Eleanor may not have that long. He jumped out after a few too short minutes and attempted to ignore the pain he felt. A groan escaped his lips and he threw a hoodie on, moving as quickly as he could down the steps as he tried to ignore the pain that engulfed his entire body, hoping Robin wasn’t still around. And as he caught the next bus to the hospital Harry couldn’t help but think that maybe he should get checked out, but he decided against it. He’s a minor. They would want to contact his mother and he just wasn’t sure that he was ready for it. So he shook the thought from his mind and limped inside, immediately being directed by polite nurses who seemed to eye his limp nervously. Harry tried to ignore their stares and he wandered down a long hallway, pausing when he saw all of his friends (friends?) sitting on plastic chairs outside Eleanor’s room. The curly haired boy didn’t at all expect Louis to look up from his hands and fly into his arms at that sight of him.

 

After a second Harry realized that Louis was crying, “God, I’m _so glad you came_.”

 

Harry cleared his throat again, blinking back tears from the sudden impact on his sensitive skin and ignoring the way Louis looked at him, as if he knew, “What happened?”

“Some random found her unconscious,” Niall said quietly, nervously letting Zayn put an arm around his shoulders comfortingly. The gesture was meant to comfort him, but Harry could tell that Niall probably felt even more uncomfortable than before, “they think she was mugged or- or something…” He said, looking at Harry with wide, terrified eyes.Harry felt his heart falter in his chest. He knew what happened; it was that boy she was with.

 

It was her boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please please let me know what you think! Also, which relationship would you like to see develop more? Liam/Niall or Louis/Harry?


	13. Eleanor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleanor has an accident and it leaves her feeling a little bit unlike herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters.
> 
>  
> 
> Also holy shit, almost 3k hits? You guys are incredible! Please let me know what you think of this chapter.

Eleanor could feel herself slowly waking up; her eyes were begging to be opened and she could now hear the numerous voices in the room. But the pain she felt throughout her body overwhelmed her and she wanted nothing more than to fall back into numbing slumber, so she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to ignore what was around her. She tried to keep her body still, hopefully not calling any attention to herself. Eleanor came to realize it was no use, there was no way she could get back to sleep, and opened her eyes. Squinting against the overbearing lighting of her hospital room she tried to decipher the voices she heard. Puffy cocoa eyes scanned the room; it was dull, mostly white, and there were machines beeping beside her bed. It took her a second to realize they were actually attached to her and she groaned inwardly, hating the idea of needles being stuck in her. Her mind was trying to process what had happened, how she had ended up here in the first place and why she was in so much pain. Eleanor only vaguely remembered hitting her head-- hard and then everything else was just nothing to her. A panicked feeling was beginning to rise in her chest, her breathing became heavy and that’s when the people in the room finally noticed she had woken up.

The first voice she heard was one that gave her a very strange case of déjà vu and she honestly couldn’t place her finger on where she had heard it before. “El, love, can you hear me? Are you alright?” Her brow crinkled painfully in confusion as she stared at the boy in the almost attractive two-toned raglan shirt with the glistening blue eyes and the glowing tanned skin. Was she supposed to know who this boy was? Her brain only slightly recognized his feathered hair and sweet voice,who was he?

 

The next person who spoke couldn’t be placed in her mind at all, “Eleanor, what happened?” The milky caramel eyes of another brunette boy stared at her. She noted that he looked slightly like a teddy-bear and his eyes made her feel safe. But why was he in her room, and speaking to her?

 

Her tongue felt numb as she tried to form words, Eleanor cleared her throat quietly before blinking at the boys who had spoken to her, “Who are you? What’re you doing in my room?”

 

An accent that she decided immediately that she loved filled her ears and she got the sudden urge to jump out of bed and embrace the boy, “What do you mean, El? That’s Louis,” he pointed to the one with blue eyes, “and that’s Liam…” The blonde boy’s insanely blue eyes were staring intently at her, gleaming with worry and fear. Eleanor silently admired the pale boys adorably flushed cheeks.

 

“Who are you? And I don’t know any Liam or Louis!” She couldn’t remember anything; Eleanor worked her mind as well as she could, turning its gears and concentrating. It was the most frightening thing ever, trying to remember things when was just nothing there.

 

Now the blonde boy’s eyes began to water and his voice got quiet, “Eleanor, it’s me, Niall…” He trailed off, staring into her eyes again and hoping to get a positive response. “Oh my God, you have no idea who I am, or who they are…”

 

Her eyes were now wide as she stared at the three visible boys. The one she learned as Louis had been the only one who had rang any bell in her mind, but she couldn’t place a finger on the other two. The Irish boy, Niall, sat himself on the end of her bed and ran his hands through his hair, only looking up as a darker skinned lad with nearly jet-black hair walked through the door. His eyes were very deep and sensual, Eleanor noted, and also very frantic looking. “Eleanor, babe, are you alright? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it earlier I just-”

 

“I don’t know you…” She whispered, looking to the other boys for guidance. Her heart was beating out of control and she was absolutely terrified. Somewhere she knew that she was supposed to know who these boys were, but there were no files indicating that they had ever been in her life. “I don’t know any of you…” Tears pricked her eyes as she sat up in her bed.

 

“What are you talking about?” The somewhat intimidating boy asked, squinting his eyes in skepticism, “I’m Zayn, El, we’ve been friends for years, what do you mean you don’t know who I am?”

She shook her head and looked down, blinking once and allowing a tear to trace a path down her bruised cheek.

“Is this some sick fucking joke? Eleanor this isn’t funny! This isn’t fucking funny okay, don’t you dare do that!” Zayn was in an absolutely furious state denial, he was shaking as he pointed an accusing finger at her. “Please, don’t do this.” His voice quieted at the last of his words, and his eyes grew sad.

 

“I’m sorry,” Her voice broke, “I just don’t remember any of you…” And then two more people entered the room, each of them having curly hair. She focused on the absolutely stunning girl who had shuffled timidly towards the bed. Eleanor studied the pretty face, wondering if she was supposed to know this girl, as well.

 

The girl smiled warmly at her and Eleanor almost felt like that smile was home, “Hey babe, how ya’ feeling?” This girl’s voice was so sweet and quiet. She looked tired, Eleanor noticed, this girl had large bags beneath her eyes and her glossy curls had lost the oomph she could tell that they naturally had.

 

“Who-” Eleanor began, but was cut off by Liam, who somehow seemed much more mature than his boyish face led on.

 

“That’s Danielle, Eleanor. She’s your best friend…” His voice was very quiet, but it was also strong and steady. Eleanor could already tell that this boy carried a lot of weight on his shoulders.

 

“But… But I don’t…” She tried to keep herself together for this group of strangers, she really did, but her walls crumbled. She was absolutely terrified and she was in pain and God she was so scared. The fact that everything was nothing but a mess in her mind was the most horrifying thing she ever could have imagined. Tears poured steadily from her swollen eyes and she hunched over in her bed. The quiet voices of Danielle and Louis echoed from the other side of the room. Deciphering the conversation wasn’t difficult, as Eleanor knew what they were talking about. There was something seriously wrong here and even though at this point these people were just strangers, she could tell that at one point in her life, she really cared for them. The blonde boy had moved up on the bed, trying to wrap his arms around her carefully in a comforting motion. Eleanor flinched back involuntarily from the touch and she saw the pained expression on his face. Niall had already forgotten that Eleanor had no idea who he was. But even though she didn’t remember him, he had to try to comfort her.

 

 The Irishman could only imagine the terror and absolute distress she was going through, so he cooed quickly at her and opened his arms again, “Don’t worry darling, it’s okay… It’ll be okay.” And for some reason, Eleanor trusted him. Strong but soft hands caught her as her frail frame crumbled in his grasp; he just pulled her lightly to his chest and kept hushing comfortingly. Her ears picked up the sound of the other people in the room moving and she heard the quiet whimpering of her supposed best friend, Danielle. Eleanor knew that Liam was comforting her, as well as he was Louis, who seemed absolutely devastated. She peeked her large eyes around the room and saw that Zayn was sitting in one of the plastic chairs, head in his hands. As the door opened once more, her eyes brightened.

 

A boy with a mass of beautiful curls entered the room and her heart stopped. “Harry!”

 

Every face in the room turned to look at her and honestly, she was just as surprised as they were. She knew Harry; she had been friends with him for ages, they practically grew up together. “Hey love, how are you?” He whispered sweetly, not seeing the shocked expressions on his friends’ faces. Eleanor couldn’t describe how amazing it felt to finally see a familiar face.

 

“Y-you know who he is?” Niall stuttered, loosening his grip so he could look at her.

 

She cocked her head to the side in confusion; had they also known Harry? Were they all friends? “Yeah, I do. We’ve been friends for ages, why wouldn’t I know who he is?”

 

Harry turned to his friends with wide eyes, “What’s going on…”

 

Liam appeared next to him and set a hand coolly on his shoulder, “She doesn’t remember us,” he whispered, almost too quiet for Eleanor to hear, “Me, Zayn, Niall, Lou, or Dani. She doesn’t remember any of us.”

 

“But she remembers me?” Harry questioned, looking slightly surprised and uncomfortable. Liam nodded solemnly and looked at Eleanor with sad eyes. “Oh…”

 

Niall moved over so Harry could take his spot beside Eleanor. She looked at him and her eyes filled up again. “Harry, I’m so scared…” She whispered, meeting his comfortingly familiar eyes. Eleanor couldn’t help but notice the way Harry winced as he sat and how his eyes squinted in discomfort but honestly all she cared about was that he was there with her. Harry reacted much like Niall did and pulled her close, whispering soothing words into her hair. And as if it were for the millionth time in that short period the door opened again. More people Eleanor recognized entered the room. Her parents. They acknowledged each of the teenagers in the room by name, leaving Eleanor to truly and wholesomely believe that she was meant to know who these people were. A very friendly looking doctor followed quickly behind her mother and father, carrying a clipboard and glancing down at is as she walked.

 

“I’m afraid we’ve got some terrible news…” The woman said with sympathy obvious in her voice.

 

Zayn dropped head into his hands, “Fucking hell…” he whispered brutally as he tugged on his hair

 

The doctor eyed him and then the rest of the group before speaking again, “I’d like to have a word alone with Eleanor and her parents. Alone, please.”

Liam led Niall out of the room with an arm around his shoulders; Danielle grabbed Zayn’s hand and nearly forced him out of the room while Louis followed behind reluctantly. As Harry began to get off the bed to pursue them Eleanor felt her stomach twist, “No, Harry, please stay.” His emerald eyes questioned the doctor, sitting back down slowly as the woman nodded her head. Eleanor crossed her arms over her chest and stared blankly at the doctor and then at her parents, waiting to hear what had to be said.

 

Harry’s hand gripped hers comfortingly as the doctor began to speak, “We’ve done multiple scans involving your brain as we assessed the damage and now that we’ve gotten the reports back we can understand the severity your condition.” Her mother motioned for her to continue, “Yes, well unfortunately it seems as though Eleanor has post-traumatic amnesia.  Which usually occurs after damage is done to the brain, like a concussion. And it appears as if during the assault there were multiple blows directed towards her head or that after you collapsed you may have hit your head.” She paused, as if to sympathize with the family before continuing, “Unfortunately what this means is that Eleanor will not be able to recall many events from her past and sometimes it may be difficult for her to store new information.” She looked into Eleanor’s and Harry’s eyes almost sadly, “Although something tells me you have already figured that out.”  
 

“Wh-What?” Her mother whispered, covering her mouth and moving to the side of Eleanor’s bed.

 

“Do you have any idea how long it will last?” Her father asked, wrapping an arm around his wife.

 

The doctor cleared her throat and looked down at her clipboard, “It’s hard to say, cases vary vastly. Sometimes patients will re-gain all memory by the following day and some it takes months, even years for everything to come back to them.”

 

“But- sorry, excuse me,” Harry interrupted suddenly, “But you said Eleanor lost her memory, right?” The doctor nodded, “Then why can she remember me and her parents, but not the rest of our friends?”

 

The female doctor sighed lightly, but not rudely, “Well, sometimes patients can recall certain persons who have been in their life for an extended period of time. Like her parents, for example, she has been around them since she was just an infant, so their memory is stronger in her mind.”

 

“So, she remembers me because we’ve known each other for so long?” Harry questioned.

 

“I would say that is exactly the reason why, although it was probably purely by chance that she remembered you specifically. Who or what she remembers may not make sense; Eleanor could end up remembering a teacher she had in primary school or even just a face that passed by her in a crowd.” She responded, quickly jotting down notes as she moved to examine Eleanor.

 

“But there is a chance she’ll get all of her memory back, right?” Harry prodded again. Eleanor was silent during the entire conversation; she was nervous and scared and frankly now she was just taking it all in. She realized that maybe she would remember her friends but until then she was constantly reminded that she was nearly alone.

 

“Of course there is… But again, nobody can be sure on how long it will take for everything to resurface. So the best that everyone can do is be very calm, do not overwhelm her. Make sure to let anybody who’s necessary know about that. If she is constantly being bombarded by people trying to get her to remember them it will start to strain her memory and the process will take longer. So that being said what I suggest is, Harry right?” Harry nodded, “Well Harry, I suggest that you stick by her side for a while. Slowly lead her through life as it would be normally, try to ease her back into things, see if it triggers any memories.” The curly headed boy nodded his head vigorously and the doctor looked at Eleanor and then her parents, “I’m very sorry that all of this happened, I really truly am. It’s quite a shame. But you’ll be happy to know that the chance of making a full recovery is very high…” The doctor said, leading the parents out of the room again to talk about prescribing antibiotics.

 

Harry and Eleanor sat quietly on the bed for a few minutes, just letting the information sink in.

“Do you remember how you got hurt?” Harry asked quietly, not meeting her gaze.

 

Eleanor pondered for a moment. She tried to recall the previous evening. All that came up was the image of an unfamiliar boy, loads of yelling and then her being hit. She couldn’t give her friend any specifics on who this mystery person was but Harry seemed furious, as if he knew something Eleanor didn’t.

“Haz,” He looked up at the sound of his nick-name and smiled, just glad that she remembered, “Harry what’s wrong? Why are you so upset…?” She asked. Eleanor wanted to know what Harry knew, she needed to know.

 

His lips parted and he sucked in a deep breath, “I think it was your boyfriend, El.”

 

“Boyfriend?” 

 

“Yeah, his name is Chris. But Eleanor, there are things wrong with him, he’s, erm… ill.” He said quietly, refusing to meet her eyes yet again.

 

“What do you mean, Harry?” Eleanor asked, suddenly feeling her stomach fly up to her throat, as if it were going to jump out.

 

“He’s hit you before, you’ve denied it… but we all know it’s true. Chris is bipolar and he’s supposed to take meds for it,” Harry looked down, “but sometimes he forgets. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened last night; I had been taking the bus home and I thought I saw you two outside of a bar, but I wasn’t sure. And it looked like you two were fighting… and God, I should have just gone back to see if it was you, to see if you were alright…” Harry trailed off, running a hand through his now messy curls.

 

Eleanor didn’t know what to say, there was nothing she could, but she tried, “Harry, it’s not your fault.” It was nothing but a whisper but he looked up with pained eyes.

 

“I’m so sorry, El.”

 

She felt herself begin to cry again, she didn’t know what to do with herself. But she wanted to be alone, “Can you please leave?” She said, wiping away her tears.

 

“But El-”

 

“ _Please_ , just go.” She interrupted, pointing to the door.

 

Harry stood up and followed the direction in which she pointed, pausing momentarily as he reached for the handle, “I’ll come back tomorrow…” and then he was gone.

 

As the door shut Eleanor curled in on herself, ignoring the aches and pains of bruises. Tears flowed freely down her face and she choked on her own sobs, completely overwhelmed with everything. Her mind was racing as she thought; she would have to jump into a life she had no recognition of with friends she didn’t know at a school that she couldn’t remember. Her heart ached, wishing that she would just remember the people she had met earlier as genuine friends, not just friendly strangers. Eventually she cried herself dry and her eyes drooped shut, leaving her to fall into a calmed sleep.

Her dreams were strangely vivid and the blonde Irish boy appeared in them along with the boy who had auburn hair and the teddy bear and even the dark-skinned one. They were all there and Eleanor just wished that she could remember how important they were to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dundundunnnnnnn! Poor Eleanor!  
> In the next few chapters we're going to get a better look at Zayn, Danielle, and see if Harry can finally get the courage to get help!


	14. Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis wants to forgive Harry, he wants to do more than forgive Harry. He wants to help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters
> 
> Holy shit guys, 3000 hits? You're absolutely mental, this is amazing! Thank you so much to all of you guys who have stuck with me through this rollercoaster of a story! It means so much :) x

Feeling alone was one of those things Louis just hated beyond anything else in the world. He hated not having someone to talk to, to comfort him, or just be there for him. And he’s not that his friends abandoned him, if anything it was the exact opposite of that, it’s just that Louis had hardly spoken to his  _best_ friend in nearly three weeks. He and Harry had not approached each other once since their reunion at the hospital for Eleanor and this just drove Louis absolutely mental. Harry was the best mate he had ever had(the best anything he’s ever had) and Louis had pushed him away. All over one silly mistake. Yeah one very hurtful mistake on Harry’s part, but it was a mistake nonetheless. Louis knew that, he wasn’t blind. Of course he knew that Harry hadn’t intentionally tried to hurt him and to be honest he just really wanted to know how Harry actually felt about him. Louis felt stupid for thinking that. Any normal boy or girl would be torn if their best friend had used them for no reason other than to just use them. Harry had used him because he was drunk and in the mood for a hook-up, and he knew Louis wouldn’t say no. But Louis was only focused on whether or not there were feelings there and he knew he wouldn’t be able to be around Harry until he knew. It was disastrous on the group, especially with the recent traumatic events involving Eleanor. Harry was always missing school, seeing as he was visiting her in the hospital and trying to get her to at least remember one of the others. And this made the process of forgiving Harry much more difficult for Louis, considering the fact that he was never around to actually forgive. But not only was the process proven impossible for him but it was also impossible for Zayn and Danielle to forgive him. They hated the curly haired boy to the end of the universe and back, more than Louis did, at the moment. The two were absolutely horrified when Louis had showed up on Zayn’s doorstep that day with tears shining in his saddened eyes.

 

—

 _“Lou, what’s the matter?”_   _Danielle had cooed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as she led him into the flat. Louis took a deep breath and sat himself down on the couch, willing Danielle and Zayn to take a seat beside him before he spoke. “Harry kissed me.”_

_Zayn’s eyes widened characteristically and then narrowed, “When? At your place the other day?”_

_Louis nodded slowly, fiddling with his fingers._

_Danielle cleared her throat quietly and rubbed soothing circles on Lou’s back, “But you don’t fancy Harry that way, do you?”_

_The feather haired boys head shot up quickly, and he stared at her with wide eyes before dropping them back down and shrugging._

 

_“I- wow, um… Shit.”  She trailed off._

 

_Louis kept looking down, “What happened, Lou?”  Zayn said, gritting his teeth audibly. Louis explained the entire turn of events to the two; how Harry had taken him to bed and he had just about fallen asleep when lips were pressed against his own. He told them straight away that he had been stunned out of his mind when he realized Harry had been kissing him and he was actually a bit scared, but Harry was his best friend and so he wouldn’t say no. Louis also told them how it never went farther than kissing before they fell asleep, and Zayn was already furious._

_“So he played you?” Zayn hissed._

_“No, not- I don’t know, Zayn…” Louis whispered._

_He then told them about events that occurred the next morning. Louis informed them on how Harry had no actually reasoning behind what he did besides just wanting someone to snog, and that’s it._

_“That is not okay.” Danielle said, pressing her lips in a tight line._

_“So he used you…” His dark haired friend hissed again._

_“But it’s not like he did it just to take the piss, mate…” Louis added, trying not to sound so prissy._

_“Doesn’t fucking matter. He used you just because he could! That fucking prick better watch himself.”_

_—_

 

And now here they were, sat at an old park on a Saturday afternoon. Them being himself, Danielle, Zayn, and even Niall and Liam showed up. For pretty much the first time in over a month nearly all of them were together. These past few weeks everyone had been sort of grouped off; Niall and Liam and Zayn and Danielle. Louis had noticed something strange going on between the blonde boy and Liam, they were almost always together. Constantly near each other and hardly apart for more than a couple hours. But Louis decided that maybe their relationship is what would keep them sane with all of this shit going on, and he was more than happy to turn his head the other way and pretend that he didn’t see a kiss on the cheek here or there.

 

“How do you think El’s doin’?” Zayn said, slowing taking a drag from his cigarette. It had been exactly three and a half weeks since Eleanor’s accident and so far there really hadn’t been many signs of improvement in her memory. The group, however, tried to remain optimistic.

 

“Harry,” Louis flinched subconsciously at the sound of his best mates name and Niall frowned apologetically before continuing, “Harry said that she had started to remember some things, like the name of college…”

 

“That’s better than nothing?” Danielle said, trying to sound positive.

 

Louis looked down at the blade of grass that he fiddled with in his fingers, he heard a slight shuffle from behind him and his head whipped around. His jaw dropped dramatically and he’s sure some sort of distressed noise came out of his mouth, because soon the rest of the group was looking at him curiously before seeing what he saw.

“El?!” Liam gasped, standing up quickly, but not approaching her as she sort of hid behind

Harry. “You’ve been cleared?” He said, taking a step back although the pure happiness still stuck in his voice.

 

“Yeah,” she said quietly, now stepping around the tall boy to just absorb the looks of everyone in the group. “They said it’d be best if I came out here, maybe it’d help me remember better…”

 

Louis wasn’t looking at Eleanor, he was looking at Harry and he looked right back. Those emerald eyes stared apologetically while nervous feet kicked at the grass on the ground.  Louis’ own bright sapphire pair had to look away because he heard Zayn stand up from his spot on the ground.

 

“Why the fuck are you here?” Zayn seethed, standing in Harry’s face. Louis looked back towards the two and stood himself up, not entirely sure what he was planning to do. He noticed that Niall and Liam were also standing. Liam politely grabbed Eleanor’s hand and brought her to sit beside Danielle, probably trying to make sure she wouldn’t get caught in a fight. If one were to break out, of course. Niall crossed his arms over his chest and bit his lip as he looked to Harry, trying to figure out the best way to stop this. Violence wasn’t something Niall saw as a solution, and Louis wouldn’t be surprised if it triggered a breakdown for him. But Niall was still closest to Harry as of this moment and he also knew a fight between them wasn’t going to help Eleanor at all, Louis watched as Niall stalked to stand a little behind Harry, almost like a shadow. Liam now looked tense, his dark eyes focused more on Niall than on Zayn and Harry, but he seemed ready to step in if he needed to. The curly haired boy shot backwards awkwardly as Zayn’s saliva sprayed his face during the confrontation. He looked rather weak and Louis noticed the way he held himself. It didn’t look right, it seemed as even just standing there was causing Harry pain. There were dark bags painted beneath those tired sage eyes, and his skin looked rather pale. Something just wasn’t right here.

 

“I said- Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Here.” Zayn spat again, this time placing his hands on the younger boy’s chest and pushing him back roughly, causing him to lose his balance and tip to the ground. Niall’s eyes narrowed to a glare and Louis thinks he might have heard the boy hiss before dropping to his knees beside Harry.

 

Louis then shot forward, pressing a hand against Zayn’s chest and meeting his eyes. “Zayn, don’t.” The lad with dark eyes and a steaming tempter took a step back, still glaring at Harry as the boy stood up with Niall’s help, crinkling his brow in pain as he did so. Louis watched the way he walked, wanting to break down and cry at the limp in Harry’s step. He couldn’t believe that even after Harry’s confession, after he admitted what his step-father did to him, Louis wouldn’t notice the pain.

 

He eyed Zayn once more before taking a step towards Harry, pretending not to notice Liam leading Niall away by linking their fingers together. Louis looks at them sideways before focusing on Harry, “You alright?”

 

Harry blinked back slowly, “M’alright...” His jade eyes narrowed as Zayn took a step forward again. He growled under his breath and stepped past Louis so he could stand in front of the older boy.

 

“You should go, Harry.” Zayn said bluntly. “You fucked up.”

 

Harry groaned exasperatedly, “And how am I supposed to make it up to Louis, to any of you, if I don’t get the chance!” He turned to look at Louis pleadingly,  _“_ I’m trying to make things right, Lou _, I’m trying._ You’re my best fucking mate and I know I screwed up, but I miss you I- fuck, I need you. I need all of you guys.”  And while Harry directed his words to the group as a whole, his eyes never left Louis’.

 

“If you wanted to fucking fix what you did, why haven’t you spoken to me in weeks, Haz!” Louis finally yelled, causing Harry to whip back around to face him.

“I’ve tri-”

 

Louis cut him off with an angry chortle,  _“_ No, you haven’t tried! You’ve been moping around and hiding, and staying with Eleanor these past few weeks. You’ve been avoiding me _and_  what you did. To be completely honest if you had just come to me and apologized, just one more time, if you had tried to fix everything instead of being a coward… I would have forgiven you right then and there.” By then end of Louis’ rant his voice had gone soft. He wanted Harry to realize this could end that maybe they could be something other than just Louis and Harry. But he was furious and hurt that Harry just didn’t seem to care.

 

“How can I come near you when Zayn is ready to punch my fucking face in whenever he sees me!” Harry shouted back, causing Louis to jump. Louis looked to Zayn, who shrugged apologetically, almost looking guilty, though he seemed more concerned with scratching at a small sore on his forearm.

 

“Bollocks, Haz!” Louis saw the younger boy’s lips quirk up at the use of his nickname, but he ignored it, “If you really cared you could have at least called me. Zayn isn’t around every single second of every single day!”

 

“I’m sorry Lou, okay? I’m so fucking sorry that I hurt you and that I used you that way. I want you to forgive me; I  _need_ you to forgive me. You’re my best friend.” It was sad really, how small Harry suddenly looked in front of all of his friends.

 

 Louis sighed and then a smile broke his lips as he took a step forward, “That’s what I’ve been waiting for.”  He ruffled Harry’s curls and pulled him in for a hug, loving the way Harry felt against him and the way he smelled and just _Harry_. Louis never wanted to let him go but he did to look at Zayn, eyeing him as if to ask if he was cool, too.

 

“Whatever, if you’re good, I’m good.”  Zayn sighed, also stepping forward to embrace his young friend, “Sorry I punched you in the face, mate.” Harry pulled away and laughed, still looking slightly shaken.

 

“Poor Eleanor! You lot have scared the shit out of her!”  Niall chuckled, looking at the girl who sat on the grass with wide eyes. The entire group was surprised when she busted out in giggles.

 

“I really wish I could have remembered what was going on here, this is fun.”

 

Harry laughed heartily and walked, or limped, to give her a friendly ‘welcome back to the group’ hug.

“Oi, Haz, why are you walking like that? You okay _?”_  Niall said, genuine worry dripping in his Irish accent, though he seemed to already know what was wrong. Louis’ eyes widened as Harry stopped dead in his tracks. At this point you couldn’t lie to Niall,  _especially_  not Niall. He knew more than anyone how this worked and if you lied to him now, he would know. But worse than that, Louis finally realized what had gone so wrong. His letter. The letter he wrote to Harry’s step dad. It was his fault.

 

How could Louis have been so stupid, so ignorant. He should have known that the letter would cause nothing but problems for Harry. He hurt Harry.

 

“Niall, it’s nothing.”  It was obvious that Harry was trying to silently plead with the Irish boy, to make him shut up, but it wasn’t going to work.

 

And Louis had to do a double take as he saw tears well in the blonde lads eyes because this really hit home for him, _“_ Harry, don’t lie to me! You’re hurt. Someone’s hurting you!” Louis doesn’t think he’s ever seen Niall look so small, so young. He wanted to reach out and hug the boy, but he saw the look in Liam’s eye and refrained, feeling as though his head would be ripped off if he touched Niall.

 

Harry looked to Louis for help, and licked his lips nervously.

“The letter…” Louis whispered, so quietly that he was surprised any of them heard him at all.

Harry’s curls whipped around his face as he turned his head, he stared at Louis with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry, Haz. I wanted to help. But I made things worse.”

 

“Louis, don’t. It’s not your fault.” Harry assured, now turning from Eleanor to face him again.

 

“What’s not his fault? What happened? Harry, what’s going on?”  Liam questioned, placing an arm around Niall’s waist as he approached, now feeling more out of the loop than before.

_“Nothing!”_  Harry shouted, startling Niall again,  _“Nothing is fucking going on!”_  And then he stormed off to sit on one of the swings a few feet away. Louis pressed his lips together and walked after him, Niall following behind, silently asking Liam to stay put.

 

Louis sat on the swing next to him, “Harry, I’m so sorry. I just wanted to help, I-I just made things worse.” He stuttered, “But I think you really need to tell someone,”

 

“Tell someone what…” Niall asked, looking between the two curiously, his blue eyes watering.

 

Harry sighed deeply and refused to meet Niall’s eye, “That my step-dad,” Harry choked on his own words, “That he…”

 

Niall’s eyes widened and he took the swing on the other side of him,  _“_ Harry, you can’t let him hurt you like that anymore, you’ve got to tell someone.”

 

 _“Please.”_  Louis said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Okay.” Harry said, pursing his lips and nodding, “Okay, I think I will. I’m going to tell the police.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Let me know what you think! I know this chapter wasn't much, but we're nearing the last of my pre-written chapters, which means i've got to start writing again.
> 
> P.s. we lose one of our characters within the next few chapters, guesses on who it'll be?


	15. Harry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finally gets the help that he needs, but if it's not one thing, it's another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters
> 
> Holy shit guys, 3000 hits? You're absolutely mental, this is amazing! Thank you so much to all of you guys who have stuck with me through this rollercoaster of a story! It means so much :) x
> 
>  
> 
> p.s. I know that I posted a chapter yesterday, but I love your guys' feedback and i couldn't wait to finally help Harry!

Harry gritted his teeth as he sat on the swing, mindlessly kicking at the dirt beneath his feet and he really, _really,_ didn’t want to do this. It had been two weeks since Harry promised Louis and Niall that he would go to the police—that he would end this for good. It had been about five weeks since Eleanor’s accident. Five weeks since his step-father found the letter. His stomach twisted at the thought of the man who hurt him so consistently. Harry needed to do this; he needed to save himself.

He lifted himself from the swing and walked across the very park in which he had made the final decision to get help; he walked slowly, allowing the early spring breeze to brush his cheeks and ruffle his curls. Bright sunlight sprayed over his face, warming him from the tiniest chill the air held. He continued walking, listening to his thoughts. The voice of reason told him that he needed to get this over with; he needed to get this weight off of his shoulders. But another voice told him he needed to stay quiet, to keep harboring this dirty little secret. It was the threatening voice of his step-father. It still lingered in his ears for days after it had been there last, but it was still taunting, threatening the demise of Harry if he dared to open his mouth. But the calming voice of his inner conscience was back, contradicting the words that replayed constantly and caused fear to shake through his body oh so often.

 _It’s the right thing to do, Harry_. It whispered

 _He’ll be thrown in prison, and you’ll be safe, Harry._  It assured.

Harry hoped that this voice was right, especially now, seeing as he had wandered far from the park, closer and closer to the local police station.

Harry shoved his shaking hands deep into his pockets, mumbling quietly to himself over the thought of how condescending this day was; how dare the sun be shining so beautifully, as if there were nothing wrong? It was as if Mother Nature was deliberately taunting him. He almost laughed bitterly to himself as he watched all of the people walk, or sometimes rush, passed him. Some seemed so happy, so carefree. Like nothing mattered in the world. They were completely oblivious to the fact that such gruesome human beings walked amongst them.

They walked on as if there was nothing wrong.

The boy with glistening jade eyes actually scoffed as he watched a pair of children run passed him, playfully shouting and skipping. He knew it wasn’t fair to be blaming those innocent kids, to even be blaming anyone besides Robin, but the emotions he felt had his chest tightened painfully, and he didn’t know what to do. So he continued walking with his head down, curls covering his gaze, and eyes on the pavement. He watched the rhythm of his feet.

Left, right, left right.

 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4…

 

After nearly bumping in to one man and receiving a rude curse, his eyes darted up. There it was, just across the road. Thirty feet away, just a twenty second walk, and Harry would be there. A pang of nausea erupted in his stomach, feeling its way up his throat. He swallowed the vile lump down, and stared. Harry couldn’t do this alone, he was too frightened. What if he froze, forgot what needed to be said? What if they didn’t believe him? Harry could barely steady his hand well enough to reach into his pocket to retrieve his mobile. As it was produced from his pocket he dialed a familiar number, mumbling to himself and hoping the call wouldn’t be ignored.

One ring, two rings, three…

Louis picked up on the fourth ring, “Hey, Harry, what’s up?”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and pressed a hand to his face in distress, “Lou, I’m across from the police station…”

“That’s great, Haz! You’re going to tell them?” Louis asked, trying to sound positive, though Harry could practically taste the worry. Bu just hearing his voice had stopped the shaking in Harry’s hands, but his breath still wavered.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know if I can…”

He heard Louis sigh tentatively, “Everything’ll be just fine, Harry. You’re going to be fine. All you have to do is tell them exactly what happened; and you’ve got marks to prove it. There is nothing to be worried about.”

His lower lip jutted out in a pout and it shook threateningly, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to recall these events in front of people. He could hardly even think about them himself. “Will you meet me down here? I just don’t want to go in alone…” The voice that came out of his mouth was so different than he had expected; Harry didn’t believe he could ever feel so small and helpless.

“Of course, babe, give me just five minutes.”

Harry knew Louis was about to hang up, but he spoke again quickly, “Hey, Lou…”

“Yeah, Haz?”

“Will you bring Niall?” Harry wanted him there, as well. There was something comforting about Louis and Niall; it gave him a sense of security. Niall was in a situation so similar to Harry’s, he is the only person who knows what Harry is going through, and while he wants Louis there more than anything Harry knows that having Niall near would make it that much easier. He and Niall had grown so, so, much closer over the last few weeks, they’ve formed some sort of bond, a bond of pure _friendship_ that is so different from his current relationship with Louis.

 

“Of course, be there in a sec. It’ll all be okay, promise.” And then the line went dead. Harry shoved the phone back into his pocket and sat himself on the curb. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the taunting building. What was he going to say to make these officers believe him? Hands found his face and he stayed that way, leaning against his knees, waiting for his friends to arrive.

“Harry, you alright?”  The sudden noise startled Harry, and he pulled away from his hands to meet the eyes of his Irish friend.

“Been better.” He tried to smile, accepting the arm that flung around his shoulder as they walked towards the building. “How’s El doing?”  He added, looking to Louis, and pretty much just trying to avoid the inevitable.

“I’d say she’s proper tired after Liam had her running around all day.” Louis smiled, opening the door and walking to sit in one of those seats placed in the main lobby.

Harry actually smiled at that, he was well glad that Eleanor had begun to open up to the rest of the group.

“Have you figured out what you’re going to say?”  Harry’s smile fell at Louis’ question and he shook his head, allowing his curls to bounce around his face.

“That’s alright, mate.”  Niall smiled, clapping his shoulder reassuringly, before crinkling his brow in thought. “Now go up there and do whatever it is you do when reporting someone…”

Harry sighed and glanced over at the intimidating woman sat behind the desk. He observed that aside from the scowl that was etched into her face, she was rather pretty looking. The thought was pushed from his mind as he approached her; his hands suddenly felt clammy and the shakes were back.

“Erm… excuse me?”  He asked quietly, causing the officer to look up from file she was reading contently.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” She, Officer Bredian, asked. Harry noticed the name plaque rested across the desk.

His words were caught in his throat, and when he parted his lips nothing but a hoarse whisper came out. He looked over his shoulder at his two friends who smiled and motioned him along, “I need to report something…” his voice caught again.

“Report what, love?” Bredian pressed, now fully setting down her papers.

“A rape.”  Harry finally whispered, trying to hide the fact that he was absolutely terrified. He was terrified of Robin finding out, of what would happen if Robin found out. His thumbs were twirling idly with each other and he finally looked up, meeting the suddenly softened grey eyes of the woman.

“Come with me, please.” Harry watched her walk from behind her desk and head towards a long corridor. He really just watched after her, still playing with his thumbs nervously.

When she realized he hadn’t started to follow she turned around and raised her eye brows, “It’ll be alright, just come with me.”

His eyes flickered to his friends again, “Only if they come too.”

She sighed and motioned for the three boys to come along, and they did so. Louis’ arm wrapped itself around Harry’s waist, rubbing tiny circles onto his skin through his shirt, and a warm breath was whispering in his ear, “Proud of you, Haz. I think you just have to answer some questions now, it’ll be over soon, yeah?”  Harry gulped and nodded, following behind the officer into an interview room.

He was pleasantly surprised when the room wasn’t depicted as one of those in movies, one of those intimidating interrogation rooms. This one was more of an office, and Harry took a seat in front of the neatly organized desk. The woman pulled two chairs from the farthest wall to place them on either side of where he sat, and his friends rested themselves down. Harry’s eyes darted around the room nervously as the woman left; the light was too bright, one of those fluorescent ones that caused massive headaches, and there were multiple filing cabinets, accompanied with a couple personal items. Items like a picture frames, a customized calendar, and fake potted plants.

The door reopened and two more officers stepped in, although they weren’t clad in the norm navy blue uniform, it was a simple white shirt with a black tie. A badge was hooked onto the hip of each of the men. Harry assumed these were detectives, rather than regular street cops. The one with salt and pepper hair took a seat behind the desk, and the other stood by the door, fiddling with a notebook and a pen.

“I’m Detective Mattison,” Salt and Pepper said, reaching his hand over the desk to shake those of the three boys. “And that over there is Detective Jameston, we’re here to just get all of the necessary information needed for filing a report as, er, severe as this.”

The boys nodded.

“Who is it that is filing the report?” Mattison asked, eyeing the teens skeptically as he pulled out a file.

Harry cleared his throat nervously, “Me, sir, I am.”

“What’s  your name, son?”

“Harry, Harry Styles.” His name slipped smoothly off of his tongue as he stared at the detective.

“Okay, Harry. What I need you to do is tell me exactly what happened. And if this occurred on more than one occasion, now’s the time to say it.  

He took a shaky breath and opened his mouth to speak. Before entering this room he honestly believed that admitting his story was going to be difficult, that he would freeze up, lose his train of thought, but he didn’t. Of course it was a given that Harry wouldn’t feel comfortable going into detail, and Niall and Louis helped him through those parts, asking the detectives if it was necessary that he go into the painfully vivid extremities. A relieved sigh would escape Harry’s lips as they informed him that if he wasn’t comfortable with details, then all they needed was the just of it.

How old are you?

How often did this occur?

How long has this been taking place?

Has anybody ever witnessed this?

Are these the only two people you’ve told?

 

Sixteen. Twice a week, if he was lucky. Nearly three years, it started a month after his mother re-married. No, nobody has ever caught his step-father in the act, for nobody is ever home. Yes, just Niall and Louis.

What is his name?

Where can we find him?

Besides your recollections, is there any physical evidence?

Robin Twist. He’ll be at home right about now. And yes.

Can you show us this evidence?

Harry’s eyes widened and he looked quickly to Louis, who nodded lightly, and then to Niall, who rested his hand upon his quivering shoulder, “C’mon, Haz, it’ll be best if you show ‘em.”

He nodded quickly and stood from his seat. The second detective, Jameston, stepped behind the desk so he could also see, pulling his notebook out as he glanced at Harry.

“You don’t have to, Harry, you don’t have to show us if you aren’t comfortable.” Mattison said slowly, making sure Harry understood.

“No, no I will…” Harry’s fingers trembled around the collar of his shirt, and he tugged it down lightly, revealing a line of brutally dark bites. Both of the detectives nodded grimly and scribbled down notes, and then looked back up. This time Harry lifted the hem of his shirt slightly with one hand, and descended the waist of his jeans with the other. Mattison’s lips pressed together in a tight line as he observed the clearly visible finger shaped bruises that littered Harry’s hips. They contrasted vastly against his paled skin, and they looked absolutely vile. Niall had to look away and Louis placed a hand on his knee, squeezing lightly but not taking his eyes off of Harry.

 

The boy’s hands continued to shake as he lowered his shirt and sat back down, immediately receiving comforting gestures from his friends and soft coos.

“That’s it, Haz; you won’t have to do anymore. You did so well.”  Louis hummed quietly, his warm breath sending a chill down Harry’s spine.

“It’ll be over in a bit, mate, just a little bit longer.” Niall added.

Harry nodded, and looked at Mattison, who seemed furious, although he held his composure well as he finished scribbling notes down.

“Harry, we have enough evidence here to make an arrest.”  He finally said. The curly headed boys ears perked up and he felt a smile quirk his lips.

They believed him. Robin was going to be sent to prison and he’d finally be safe.

“As long as you’re willing to testify against him in court, I believe that this man will be sent away for a very long time.” Mattison added, eyeing Harry over the desk, “Will you be able to do that, Harry? Will you be able to repeat exactly what you said to us in front of a judge?”

“Yes, yes sir.” Harry stuttered, standing up to shake the man’s hand.

“Very good, you did outstandingly well, son. The only thing left is for the medical examiner to get documentation of the physical marks, so we can appeal to them in court. Are you alright with that?”

Harry nodded, and followed him out of the office and into the other room. Niall and Louis waited behind as the examiner took several photos of the bruises spread over Harry’s body.

“We’re going to send troopers to arrest him, I don’t recommend you come along, but if need be you three can come with me.” Mattison stated upon re-entering the room with Harry.

“Haz, we don’t have to go. We can just wait here…”  Niall said, eyeing his friend worriedly.

“No,” his curls shook with the movement of his head, “no I want to go. I want to see him get arrested; I need to see him be taken away.” Louis’ lips pursed together in a tight line, “and if my mum’s there, she’ll want to see me, anyways…” He added quietly.

His two friends nodded understandingly, and then the detectives led the way out of the room. The car they drove to his home in wasn’t a regular police vehicle, it was one of those incognito ones, and they followed behind a patrol car. Harry’s stomach twisted wildly as they pulled to a stop.

“It’ll be fine.” Niall reassured, although he looked rather nervous himself.

Detective Mattison turned around from the driver’s seat, “If you three will enter the house first, we’ll follow behind. To catch him off guard, yeah?”

The boys nodded and Louis opened the door, leading the way up the small path with Niall and Harry in tow. Harry craned his neck to make sure that the detectives and basic officers were right behind them before he pushed ahead of Louis to open the door.

“Mum?”  He called, stepping inside quietly, “You home?”

“Yeah, love, in the kitchen!”  Harry followed his mother’s voice through the foyer and entered the kitchen, freezing momentarily when he spotted Robin seated at the table casually. He smiled at Harry, almost evilly. A grimace reached his face, and then he jumped at the sudden commotion.

The officers had entered the house, shouting and barging into the kitchen around the boys.

“Robin Twist you’re under arrest for third degree sexual assault of a minor.”

Harry stiffened as Robin was shoved forward and his arms were pulled behind him, allowing cuffs to restrain his wrists.

“You’re all fucking mad!”  His step-father hissed, wriggling in the grip of the two basic officers.

“Save it.”  Mattison said.

“Robin? Harry? What’s going on?”  His mother said quietly, looking between them, the friends, and the officers anxiously. “Harry?”  She whispered.

He refused to meet her gaze and he stared at the ground, blinking at the tears that rolled down his cheeks. “Oh, God, no…” Anne’s voice sounded so lost and confused as Robin was pulled from the kitchen.

“You did great, son.”  Jameston rested his hand on Harry’s shoulder as he blinked after the officers who led his step-father away. They led his abuser away, and he couldn’t help but smile as the door slammed shut in their wake.

The next step was explaining the situation to his mother, and Harry was lucky, because Mattison did most of the talking. He showed her the reports from the interview they held earlier, and he informed her of the penalty for Robin’ crimes, which would be no less than ten years in prison. Harry’s heart broke for his mum, she had been absolutely clueless. And now she sat at the table, sobbing into her own hands, apologizing over and over again for never noticing that something was wrong. That continued on for what seemed like eternity, to Harry. But the detectives finished questioning his mother eventually, and Harry walked them to the door, but he stopped Mattison before he could leave.

“What is it, Harry?”

He bit his lip nervously, “If I knew a friend of mine was also being hurt, physically I mean, what should I do about that?”

The detectives lips pursed together, “The right thing would be to report it, son.”

Harry nodded, “But what if they didn’t want it to get reported? And they would be furious with me if I did…”

“Well, choices have to be made, Harry. If your friend is in danger, anything you do could be saving his life.”

 

He nodded again, now biting his inner cheek in thought.

“Harry?” Mattison said sternly, and he looked up with shining sage eyes, “Which one of them is it?” The detective cocked his head back towards the kitchen where the boys were still seated.

A sighed escaped Harry’s lips and he parted them to speak, “Niall- er the blonde one. His dad beats him, really bad, sir. He’s been admitted to the hospital at least a dozen times this year alone…”

The salt and pepper haired man reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, Harry assumed it held a number on it “Give this to him; tell him to come see me when he’s ready to talk. But until then, I’ll see what can be done from a distance.”

Harry agreed, and then gave the detective necessary information before they parted ways for good. He knew Niall wasn’t going to be happy with this, but it needed to be done. He was in danger, and it needed to be stopped.

Harry went back inside and sat himself with his mother and friends once more. Through all of the tears that occurred through the rest of the night, some happy, some not, Harry was beginning to feel better. He felt safe in his own home again; he had a weight lifted off of his shoulders, and he felt as if he could just breathe for once.

He soon said goodbye to Louis and Niall, who had loyally stuck by his side throughout the rest of the day; through the interview with his mother, through his continuous breakdowns, and through just everything. They comforted him, and he was grateful. Niall hugged him tight, tucking his face into the crook of Harry’s neck to whisper nothing’s to him. To tell him he was finally safe and as Niall did so Harry slipped the detectives card into the pocket of his hoodie. Louis followed behind Niall, squeezing into Harry’s arms. Harry pressed his nose into Louis’ soft hair and breathed deep, inhaling Louis’ sweet scented shampoo. He felt safe, right here, in his own home. With Louis, he felt safe. The boy pulled away and stared into Harry’s eyes, the blue of Louis’ bright in the strange lighting of Harry’s foyer.

“I love you, Harry.” He whispers. And Harry doesn’t know what to say, and Louis can’t believe he just said that. His eyes go wide and his mouth slack, and then he’s out the door, leaving Harry standing by himself with the front door wide open. He wants to call out to Louis, to make him come back and explain himself, but he can’t get the words out. It seems as though he has swallowed glue and they’re stuck on his tongue.

Harry feels numb as he goes to bed that night, he kisses his mum’s tear-stained cheek, and wanders into his room. He falls onto his bed, and for the first time in years, he felt alright. He felt as if he could leave his door unlocked, and he could sleep in peace. But he can’t, because now there’s something else to be afraid of.

Love. Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you guys think!
> 
> also, we'll be losing one of our characters soon, any guesses on who it'll be? x


	16. Zayn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn is fucked up, his friends are fucked up, everything is fucked up. But Zayn decides that he doesn't really care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters
> 
> Holy shit guys, 3000 hits? You're absolutely mental, this is amazing! Thank you so much to all of you guys who have stuck with me through this rollercoaster of a story! It means so much :) x
> 
> p.s. THERE ARE ONLY TWO CHAPTERS LEFT BEFORE WE LOSE SOMEONE, AND I AM REALLY PROUD OF THAT CHAPTER, AND I WANT TO JUST POST THEM NOW. You guys have no idea how hard it is for me to wait to post it! So keep your eyes open, you may get that sometime this week! :)
> 
> (any guesses on who it may be?)
> 
> ALSO SORRY FOR THE SHIT THAT IS THIS CHAPTER, in the two years i've had this written, i've always hated it. Apologies! x

The toe of Zayn’s boot scuffed against the sidewalk, echoing quietly through the empty street. The misted air of the chilly late night howled through the trees that lined the pavement, rustling the leaves lightly. His fingers brought a cigarette to his lips in an automatic motion.

_Inhale. Exhale._

Smoke curled repeatedly in his lungs, it twisted and turned before getting puffed out in perfect clouds. He waited for the relaxation the nicotine nearly always brought him. He waited for the utter sense of calmness he wished for so desperately, he needed so greatly. He walked through the eerily empty town; the streets deserted, sans the single nightingale that sang a lonesome song from its perch in a wilted tree. Zayn begged hopelessly with himself; he fought two silent battles, both of which were inevitable losses. Battle one, his thoughts, his mind, and his friends. His thoughts were driving him wild, and he needed to calm himself down. But he couldn’t. Not for any longer than he already had.

Nothing was right, anymore. Absolutely nothing was fucking  _right._

Each and every one of them had known nothing was sane anymore; they’ve known such a thing for a very long time. They knew deep down, in their own subconscious mind, that there was something more than wrong with every single one of them. But yet, every single one of them,  _every single one_ , made the choice to blatantly ignore it. They refused to acknowledge it outside of their own thoughts. Yes, each of them was suffering in their own ways. Yes, each of them  _knew_ their friends were suffering, but they went on pretending. Pretending as if nothing even mattered, they would be around each other, putting on bravados and acting as if they weren’t nearly deceased inside.

Zayn was tired of it. His mind, his body, his soul was tired of it.

So sick and fucking tired of it.

He knew what all of his friends had been going through, whether they were aware of it, or not.  Maybe they doubted Zayn, maybe they took his carefree and ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude as blunt ignorance, or maybe they didn’t. It really didn’t make a difference. Whether they knew Zayn had a keen eye for their suffering, it didn’t matter. He knew. Everyone was fucked up beyond belief, and it was terrifying.

_Zayn had seen those lines upon lines of scars and cuts on Liam’s arms. From the first time he saw them, he knew, and he tried to talk to him, he tried to get through to him. But Liam refused; he insisted that Zayn had gone absolutely mental and had no idea what he had been talking about. It hurt, of course, that Liam denied assistance from Zayn, explaining that there was nothing wrong, and that he had to be seeing things. Because ‘Liam would never do such a thing to himself. **Ever**.’_

_Bullocks. That’s what Zayn thought about that. It was absolute bullshit. There was one of his mates, who nearly always had his shit together, getting ready to crumble, but yet he refused to allow Zayn to help him. He believed that maybe Liam was trying to be strong for all of his friends, that maybe Liam was just as aware of all of the suffering as Zayn was, and he didn’t want to seem weak to them. He wanted to be their rock. Or maybe not, again, it didn’t really make a difference. Liam was still imbedded in a deep and severe case of depression, and it was slowly eating away at him, Zayn knew it. If Liam didn’t seek the help he needed soon, he was going to break completely, and he was terrified that the friend he had known for so long would never be the same._

_Niall was no better; he had been opposing that there had even been a problem for years. It took so long just to get the kid to admit that someone had been hurting him, and once he finally did, he still wouldn’t let any one of them help the situation. And it fucking sucked, if Zayn was to be honest. Because there wasn’t one moment in the past, at least, five months that there has not been hidden pain beneath Niall’s sullenly beautiful eyes. Zayn’s heart sinks at the realization that some of that pain had been from himself, he had hurt Niall, more than once._

Zayn looked up from the cracked sidewalk and eyed the sign that labeled the street name. He let the still burning cigarette slide from his lips and land on the ground in front of him. The heel of his boot grinded into the smoking ash and he turned sharply to the right. The alley way he entered was far sketchier than he had anticipated, but he trudged on regardless, pulling his jacket tighter around his frame.

_Eleanor, though, was just pitiful in Zayn’s mind. She still seemed so lost, even though now it had been at least seven weeks since her accident. The progress she had made was minimal; remembering a small project she and Niall had worked together on several years ago, realizing that Liam is, in fact, not a sociopathic serial killer, and she had now actually begun to let Danielle back into her life. The doctors had told them that this, so far, was an extraordinary recovery, but Zayn didn’t think that way. He saw how empty Eleanor looked as she hung around the group; her laugh just wasn’t there, the smile didn’t reach her eyes, and he could just tell that she just didn’t feel as though she belonged with them. Not yet, anyway.  But that wasn’t really what had Zayn on the edge for her. It was one day, maybe a week ago, at lunch. Her tray had been stock-piled with food; that had been a benefit of her accident, Eleanor had seemed to completely forget her own eating disorder, and she had returned to eating as a normal teenage girl should. But Zayn noticed her suddenly pick up the can of Cola she was drinking; he watched her eye the ingredients label before she set it back down with a disgusted look on her face._

_The next day, he waited for her to buy her meal in the lunch line; she had been deciding between the usual burger and a slice of pizza. She stared at both of the meals in front of her before sighing heavily and ordering a salad. Now Zayn wasn’t just a prissy asshole, definitely not. But he knew, deep down, deep deep down, that Eleanor was remembering things. Remembering things that maybe she shouldn’t be remembering. And it scared him shitless, because he knew it scared her, too._

The alley that Zayn wandered down opened up to another deserted street, this time he was well alone. Not even the sad song of the moaning nightingale to keep him company. He stepped out under the light of the dim street lamps and paused momentarily; trying to recall which path it was that he was intended to follow. He soon continued farther down the road, towards downtown. Hands shoved deeper into the pockets of his leather coat and he ducked his head, avoiding eye contact with a group of rather thuggish guys that stood across the road from him.

_Thinking of Louis sent a chill down Zayn’s spine. And not the good kind of chill, either. He thought Louis was one of the strongest mates he had ever had, without a doubt. And Louis was also very good at handling his emotions; containing them inside, refusing to let others be aware of his hurt. But that wasn’t a necessarily a good thing, not to Zayn, anyway. He knew Louis was slowly breaking down inside. He knew one person could only take so much hate, so much torture, and so much harassment for so long. Thinking about it now, Zayn wasn’t really sure whether or not Louis was actually a tough soul, or if he was just good at keeping himself under control._

_But how much more hatred towards his friend would it take? How much more would it take until it became a cliché story seen upon the news? One of a boy bullied beyond limits; to commit a murder, to shoot up a school. To kill himself? How long would it take before Louis actually broke down? Zayn wasn’t sure, and he definitely did not want to find out._

Zayn’s hand subconsciously tightened around the wad of money that was bulging in his pocket. His fingers wrapped around it, and stayed there, as he walked farther into the part of town that he knew he shouldn’t be in.

_Harry, the baby of the group, was long past broken. Zayn has known that for a while, he believes. From the moment Zayn first met Harry he had known there was something off about him. Sure, at some times he was the cheekiest lad out there, but at others, he would be so different. He could be the ghost of himself, and Zayn doesn’t think Harry has ever fully been there._

_Just recently he had found out the cause of Harry’s strange behavior, and it had all made sense, but it just made him worry more for his mate. Even though Harry was no longer being hurt by his step-father, he seemed to become more and more lost each day. He skips class more often than a student of his intelligence should, and when he does show up, he resorts to staring out the window during each of his lessons. It frightens Zayn, really, because even though Harry had been one of the biggest partiers of their group, he had also been the most serious about his education. He wanted to make something of himself, and he was messing all of that up._

_Something also told Zayn that Harry was up to something, he couldn’t decipher what, but it was a twisted feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him Harry was going to get himself into trouble. And it was not going to be good._

An old warehouse came into view; broken and boarded up windows, grimy brick walls, and graffiti decorating the sides. The place just looked like a shot straight from a horror flick, and Zayn shivered as he approached.

_Danielle was one of the worst, Zayn thought. She had changed so much in the weeks passed. But nobody else knew, but him. She had gone to him one afternoon a few days before Lou and Harry had their incident, and asked for a drink. One drink turned to two, two turned to three, and soon three turned to ten. This took place on more than one day; it was almost every day that week, and then the next, and even when Zayn wasn’t around, she was drinking. Zayn knew Danielle had developed a drinking problem, rooted from the family problems she faced at home. It was terrifying; she stopped studying for her exams, the job she held was no longer a priority, and neither were her friends._

_Zayn knew if she wasn’t stopped soon, if she didn’t seek help soon, that her entire life would be thrown away._

He knocked on the heavy metal door, jumping slightly as it flung open and a lanky guy with thinned hair and much too many tattoos stood in front of him.

_There was just one person left in the group._

Zayn followed the guy into the warehouse, towards a makeshift sitting area, lit up by an unknown source of light.

_Zayn couldn’t forget himself, of course._

He sat down beside a girl, whose clothes sagged a bit too much on her thin frame, and whose skin was just a bit too pale for what Zayn believed as healthy.

_He knew he was just as fucked up._

Zayn shrugged his jacket off, tossing it to the dusty floor with evident carelessness.

_He was going to lose the second battle, as well._

He pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, just above the crease of his elbow.

_He needed to get help._

A needle was handed to him.

_This wasn’t healthy, and he knew he was throwing so much away._

It pressed into his skin, he felt the drug enter his bloodstream, and he waited. Zayn waited for the ultimate high.

_But heroin addictions aren’t that easy to overcome._

He smiled, handing the wad of cash to the lanky boy who had opened the door for him.

_Fuck it._

 


	17. Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it takes losing someone close to you to realize there is a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters
> 
> Holy shit guys, 3000 hits? You're absolutely mental, this is amazing! Thank you so much to all of you guys who have stuck with me through this rollercoaster of a story! It means so much :) x
> 
>  
> 
> THIS IS IT GUYS  
> THIS  
> IS  
> IT  
> I COULDNT WAIT TO POST THEM, SO HERE IS ONE OF TWO CHAPTERS IN WHICH SOMEONE DIES

Danielle walked slowly, one sluggish foot in front of the other, block after block. A nameless tune was hummed under her breath, echoing through the empty streets and bouncing off the brick walls of the buildings surrounding her.  A half empty flask hung loosely in her fingers.

It was ironically funny, actually, how little Danielle really cared. She really, and truly, did not care that she had been kicked out of her home.

She didn’t care that her parents had been absolutely  _furious_  with her once they had discovered her drinking habit.

She didn’t care that she wasn’t welcomed back there anymore.

Danielle just, plain and simple, didn’t care.

The bottle was pulled up to her lips as she rounded a corner; the vile liquid hardly even made her cringe, not like it used to, and she shot back several swallows effortlessly. Alcohol tainted breath puffed out in small clouds into the night air, which was abnormally cold for a late spring night. Now her fingers curled tightly around the flask, clutching it roughly enough to cause a dull throb, which she could hardly feel; the superb numbness of the vodka had pushed nearly all of her senses from the front of her conscience. Still her fingers clutched tighter, and her teeth gritted together against the slight chill that nipped the air.

Foggy memories beat against the booze that was at the forefront of her mind.

_“What is this?” Her mother hissed, holding up a duo of empty liquor bottles._

_A drunken smile wobbled on Danielle’s face, and she didn’t respond._

_“Is this yours, Danielle? Are you_ drunk _?” Danielle giggled and her head lolled to the side as her mother’s face began to turn red._

_Her mother’s eyes widened, “My God, you’re drunk!”_

Danielle looped around another bend, stumbling slightly, keeping her eyes focused on the ground. She counted her steps periodically, glancing up occasionally to make sure her path hadn’t changed.

_Her father entered the room, glaring viciously as Danielle giggled uncontrollably._

_“Get out.”_

_She stopped laughing, and pouted her lip dramatically._

_“I said_ get out _of this house.”_

_“But…” She gasped, realizing they were being entirely serious. “Fine.”_

_And so she did; Danielle grabbed her purse, and stumbled out the door. Despite it being the legitimate middle of the night, Danielle left, and began walking. She wobbled towards the one place she knew would always be open._

_Zayn’s._

Danielle marched carefully up to the door and reached for the handle, jiggling it violently. She cursed as the realization that it was locked hit her, and she began to drunkenly search for the hidden key she knew Zayn had left somewhere.

The flask was shoved beneath her arm as she crawled around on the small porch, hands and knees, looking for that blasted key.

“ _Finally!”_ She mumbled, shakily producing the small, and dusty, object from a miniature potted plant that hung from the rain gutter. The key was shoved roughly into the designated hole, and she pushed the door open, nearly tripping over her own feet as she stepped inside.

Danielle made her way through the darkness of the room and found the couch, carelessly throwing herself down, and bringing the flask to her lips as soon as she was situated.

“Shit…” The flask was drained dry; she had drunk it all. In a matter seconds Danielle was back on her unstable feet, heading to the kitchen, ready to retrieve the alcohol that she knew Zayn had hidden.

When she had found a satisfactory bottle of Jager, she sat herself back down on the couch, taking a sip every other minute.

Danielle just sat there, she didn’t keep track of how long, but eventually the front door opened, and Zayn appeared in the room.

 _“_ Holy- Jesus Christ, you scared the shit outtame! _”_   Zayn rasped, holding his chest with one hand, and supporting himself against the wall with the other.

Danielle looked at him through bleary eyes, taking in his ratty appearance; his hair was windblown, mussed up a bit, his face pale, and his eyes had a distinct puffiness wrapped around them, with pinpoint pupils dotted in the center.

A smile quirked her lip, “Zayn, what’re you on?”

He looked at her, eyes not focusing on her frame, though. “Nothin. _’_ ” Zayn began to stifle a tired laugh, and even in Danielle’s state, she knew she had said nothing even remotely funny.

“Cut it, Zayn. Jus’ gimme some of it.”

He blinked slowly, reaching to scratch mindlessly at his arm. Danielle’s eyes dilatorily followed his movement, staring intensely as the flesh on his arm was exposed. She should have been shocked when she saw the small sores dotting his skin, and the quarter sized bruises, but she was hardly even fazed.

“I don’t have any on me,” Zayn stated, still scratching at his arm, not seeming to notice that he was doing such a thing. Danielle blinked dazedly, “But we can go get some.” She grinned.

“Perfect.”

Zayn turned on his heels to walk back out the door, typing on his phone as he did so.

“Let’s drive,” Danielle stated, now looking for Zayn’s car keys, which she soon found hanging on a small hook beside the door.

Zayn looked at her, almost skeptically. “You’re drunk.”  

She shrugged, and headed out the door and towards the car anyways. Zayn followed behind, too exhausted and much too drugged out to care what happened next.

Danielle struggled to start the car properly, hell, she couldn’t even think straight. But somewhere in her mind she was sure that this was a very terrible idea, and Zayn knew that, as well. But in the state that they both were so deeply in, nothing could have stopped them.

She drove much too quickly through the still dark streets of their city; Danielle sped past stop signs and ignored red lights.

And she didn’t even see that other truck coming.

She didn’t feel the impact as it crashed into her side of the car.

Danielle didn’t feel anything.

But she could see; she could see Zayn, but he was below her. She looked to the left a bit, and she saw herself.

It took her a moment to understand, but she was looking down upon her own body. Her own lifeless, nonmoving, body.

She watched helplessly as Zayn regained consciousness, looked around for a moment, and the turned to her.

Danielle watched as he began to sob and scream, scream louder than she had ever heard someone scream before. He screamed for her to come back, he screamed at himself, and he screamed at the world. He pleaded that this not be truthful, that this all be just a terrible nightmare.

And Danielle wished she could go back down there, just comfort him, tell him everything was going to be alright.

Because she felt like it was, she felt like she was finally okay.

There would be no more fighting, no yelling. Nor would there be pressure, none at all. The weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders.

The numbness she felt wasn’t the same as from alcohol, it was different. It was clear, her mind was clear, and her body just felt  _clear_.

She felt invincible, and when the light came, she gladly went with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes i did kill off Danielle because I don't like her/writing about her and plus her and Liam have been over for a really long time so she's irrelevant anyways)
> 
> HOPE YOU GUYS LIKED IT! Let me know what you think :)


	18. Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group doesn't know how to handle the loss of Danielle, but it seems as though Eleanor isn't too concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters
> 
>  
> 
> Bringing this to a close guys! Debating on whether or not to make a sequel, or just keep this a continuous fic! 
> 
> Let me know what you think! x :)

There’s blood. So much blood. Danielle isn’t moving, Zayn keeps shaking her and screaming her name but she doesn’t respond. Blood drips down her face and leaks from her nose and mouth, trailing down her neck. He sobs and pulls his sleeve over his shaking fingers, dabbing at the blood.

 

“It’s okay, it’ll b-it’ll all be okay,” Zayn whispers, petting her hair down, “You’re okay Dani, you’re fine, yeah?” She doesn’t move, her head lolls to the side limply. “Fuck, Danielle, don’t do this! Please don’t do this!” His heart pounds in his chest and he slams his fists against the destroyed dashboard, ignoring the sharp pain of glass digging into his skin. He slams his fists down over and over again, screaming and sobbing. A man runs up to Zayn’s shattered window and says something, but Zayn doesn’t hear him.

“Are you okay? Is everyone okay?” The man spots Danielle, unmoving in the driver’s seat, “Oh God, someone call an ambulance!”

 

\--

Liam gets the call first, Zayn calls him and he doesn’t understand what the boy is saying. Zayn is crying so hard and breathing so heavy that Liam can hardly decipher what he means.

 

“Please, calm down, Zayn.” Liam says, “Try to calm down, tell me what happened. Are you okay?”

 

“Danielle, she… She, fuck she’s gone Liam, she’s gone!”

 

His heart sinks and he feels as though he might be sick, “What do you mean ‘gone’, Zayn?” Zayn sniffles on the other line and Liam hears the echo of an ambulance siren in the background, “Zayn! Answer me! Where is Danielle?”

 

“Gone. She drove. I should have s-stopped her. I didn’t stop her. She’s gone.” Zayn sobs.

 

Gone.

She drove.

Zayn didn’t stop her.

She’s gone.

 

Liam can’t breathe and he drops his phone; it falls from his fingers and clatters to the floor. Danielle is gone. Dead.

 

Suddenly his throat feels as if it were closing up, and he wants to cry, but he can’t. His eyes fill with tears but they refuse to fall. Zayn is still sobbing on the phone and Liam knows he should find out where Zayn is, but he can’t make himself move. He feels frozen. He can’t believe this.

 

It can’t be true.

\---

 

Niall doesn’t know what happened, he doesn’t know why Liam showed up at his door at half four, he doesn’t know what was so important that it couldn’t wait until the morning. But Liam was crying and he told Niall he just had to come with him. Niall asked what was wrong, what happened, where they were going, but Liam just shook his head and sat in the driver seat. He clenched his fingers tightly on the steering wheel, so tight that his skin was tight over his knuckles and Niall felt sick watching it.

 

“Liam,” he whispered, trying not to let fear leak into his voice, “what’s happened?”

 

A tiny sob broke through Liam’s lips but he didn’t answer, Niall stared at him for a long time, trying to understand what possibly could have happened.

 

“Is it your mum? Ruth?” Liam shook his head, no. “What is it?”

 

He wipes at his nose “Zayn. Danielle. They-” He doesn’t finish but Niall feels like he already knows. Something terrible has happened to one of them.

 

“Liam…” They’re pulling up to the hospital and Niall freezes. “Liam what happened.”

 

“Accident. They’ve been in an accident.”

 

\---

 

 

“Hello?”

 

“I-is this Harry… Harry Styles?”

 

“Ehm, yes,” Harry mumbles, his voice drowning with sleep, “who is this?”

 

“This is Mr. Peazer, Danielle she’s… She’s gotten into an accident, she was with Z-Zayn.”

 

Harry jumps up from bed, heart beginning to beat a thousand times a minute, “What? What kind of accident? Are they okay?”

 

Mr. Peazer is silent, but Harry can hear small sobs echoing quietly, “Mr. Peazer! What happened, where are they?!”

 

“They were in a car… Someone hit them- er they hit someone. I-it was bad… She didn’t make it.”

 

Danielle. Danielle didn’t make it. Something inside of Harry seems to die and soon he’s in the bathroom, vomiting up the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. How could this happen? He sits on the cold tile of his bathroom floor, sobbing so hard that he begins to feel light headed. He sobs, and sobs, and sobs until his mother comes running in, her hair a mess from being in bed.

 

She sits beside him and places her hand on his back, “Harry? Harry, love, what is it? What’s the matter?” She asks. But Harry can’t answer, he can’t catch his breath, he can’t focus, he can’t _think_.

 

He can’t think of anything other than Danielle.

Eventually his mum gets it out of him, she immediately says she’ll take Harry to the hospital to see Zayn. Harry agrees, but only if they can stop and get Louis on the way.

 

\---

 

Louis could hear his mobile ringing from beneath his pillow, but it surely was still too early for phone calls and he couldn’t be bothered to pick up. That is, until whoever was calling _kept_ calling. At least five times before Louis groaned and reached for his phone, ready to chuck the thing at the wall. But he saw that it was Harry calling and his brow crinkled with confusion and worry. Harry never called at this hour. His gut twisted nervously as he answered the call.

 

“Lou? Lou, you wanker, wake up!” Harry hisses, obviously not realizing that this time Louis picked up the phone.

 

Louis sighs, “Haz, what is it? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

 

“Haven’t a clue,” Harry says quietly, his voice is raspy and Louis thinks it sounds like he’s been crying.

 

“Harry, everythin’ alright?”

 

It sounds like Harry begins to cry, and Louis can hear a car start and a door shut, “No… No nothing’s alright.”

 

Louis waits for Harry to continue, though he’s already begun to get dressed and he balances his mobile on his shoulder as he pulls pants on.

 

“Zayn and Danielle got in an accident. Dani… Danielle didn’t make it. Me n’ mum are on our way to the hospital… Zayn is there.”

 

With his pants only halfway up his legs Louis freezes, not being able to move. Not being able to process what Harry just told him. Surely this is a dream, this isn’t real. He’ll see Danielle at college tomorrow, he’ll see her beautiful face and bright smile and she’ll be okay.

 

“Want us to pick you up, Louis?” Harry’s mum asks, she must have taken the phone from Harry. Louis can hear him sobbing in the background.

 

“Yes, yes please.” Louis says, almost numbly.

 

He doesn’t cry or scream, he just sits on his front porch waiting. Louis is numb.

 

\--

 

Eleanor is sitting on her bed, looking through a big, thick, book that was given to her. Her mother and friends had collaborated to create a scrapbook, full of memories and pictures and people she still doesn’t remember. Though she tries to. She tries to pretend to remember her 16th birthday party, or the boy she’s kissing in half of the pictures, or the people who are apparently her family members. But she doesn’t.

 

She looks at a picture of her as a little girl, beside her stands another girl with big, curly hair. Eleanor recognizes her as Danielle, her best friend. Or Danielle, who’s supposed to be her best friend. Eleanor has begun to grow attached to everyone again; Niall, Liam, Louis, Zayn, Harry… But not Danielle. She feels absolutely nothing for Danielle. And it isn’t as if she doesn’t _like_ her, because she does. Danielle is a very nice girl, but Eleanor can’t seem to drop back into a friendship with her. It all seemed so forced; she’s being forcing herself to act like she remembers Danielle, that she feels comfortable with her, with sharing things.

 

But she doesn’t.

 

Her phone buzzes from beside her, it’s a text from Harry. Eleanor grins, her heart fluttering momentarily at the sight of his name.

 

_-Zayn and Danielle had an accident, need to talk to u._

The smile falls from her lips.

 

- ** _Everything alright? Are you alright?_**

****

_-Im fine. Meet m at the hospital_

Her heart sinks and in an instant she’s grabbing her keys and her purse. Eleanor is out the door in minutes and on her way. Worry sinks into her bones, but she can’t help but notice that she’s only worried for one of her ‘friends’.

 

She is only worried about Zayn.

_\---_

Liam and Niall sit outside of Zayn’s room, the doctors have yet to allow anyone besides family inside, though they have been decent about providing the two with information. They were told that Zayn has suffered only a fractured rib, a few bruises, and cuts on his hands from broken glass. He was going to make a perfect recovery. Unlike Danielle.

 

They were trying not to think of Danielle; the thought of her pretty face drained of color made them feel cold. The uncomfortably hard chairs that they sat in hurt their backs and Niall leaned into Liam, relishing and taking comfort in the warmth the other provided for him. Liam wrapped his arm tightly around Niall, wanting nothing more to just pull him into his own lap and cage him in his arms, hiding him from the world. Liam wanted to hold Niall tight and cry, but he settled for his arm around Niall and the blonde boys face pressed into the crook of his neck, dampening the skin with a flood of tears.

 

Harry and Louis arrived next, Harry’s mum trailed behind them slowly before telling them that she was going to get some coffee from the cafeteria. As soon as she was out of sight Niall jumped from Liam’s arms and dove into Harry’s, sobbing hard into the boy’s jumper. Louis sat down beside Liam, his face blank. A hand slid to link with his and Louis squeezed, feeling Liam staring at him but not being able to find his voice. He squeezed again to thank him for the comfort, though it didn’t begin to put back the broken pieces he felt inside his chest. But Liam didn’t expect it to, he grasped Louis’ hand tight in his own, trying to anchor himself down. Trying not to float away into the dark cloud that stood in the back of his mind.

 

The sobs that racked Niall’s body were contagious and Harry began crying hard, his vision blurred by constant tears. When Harry felt as though his legs were going to collapse beneath him he led Niall to sit with Liam and Louis, Louis moving over a seat to allow Niall to squeeze against Liam again. Harry leaned his head against Louis’ shoulder and closed his eyes, breathing deep and slow to prevent himself from crying again.

 

Liam clears his throat, “Does anyone know where El is?”

 

“I’ve texted her.” Harry whispers, “Said she’s coming.”

 

Liam nods, stroking Niall’s hair softly. He looks up when he hears light feet click their way down the empty hallway, Eleanor looks exhausted and worried. As he stands up to embrace her he watches as she moves straight to Harry, barely making it into his lap as she begins to cry. Fat, heavy tears run down her cheeks as she presses into him.

 

“I-is he okay? Is Zayn okay?”

 

Eyeing her skeptically and moving over a bit, Louis answers, “He will be. But doctors haven’t let us see him yet.”

 

Eleanor whimpers, “Oh God, how did this happen? What happened?”

 

“They were driving- er, Danielle was driving,” Liam begins softly, holding Niall closer when his words trigger a new round of sobs, “she had been drinking.”

 

“Drinking?” Everyone turns to look at Louis, whose voice is cracked from not speaking, “She was drinking?”

 

Liam nods grimly, “That’s what Zayn said, anyway.”

 

“Well had Zayn been drinking?”

 

“No, not a drop of alcohol in his blood.” Liam says.

 

Louis leans forward in his seat, looking almost angry, “Then why hadn’t he drove? Why did he let Danielle!?”

 

Nobody answers. Nobody has the answer, and they won’t until they can get in there and speak with Zayn to _get_ answers. They stay silent for a long time; Niall and Liam fall asleep, Eleanor gets up and wanders to the bathroom, leaving Louis and Harry alone. Harry slides back over to Louis, closing the space that was formed when Eleanor arrived. He presses his knee against Louis’, the warmth from one to the other is comforting and Harry smiles softly.

 

Harry looks up at Louis, trying to meet his eyes, “You alright?”

 

He shakes his head.

 

“Me neither,” He goes silent, almost hoping Louis will say something, though he knows that he won’t, “what are we to do now, Lou? What happens now?”

 

Louis shrugs and parts his lips, “I don’t know, Haz, I really don’t know.”


	19. Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danielle's death leaves the group feeling lost, and Zayn can't been forgiven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters
> 
> Holy shit guys, almost 4k hits?? You're absolutely mental, this is amazing! Thank you so much to all of you guys who have stuck with me through this rollercoaster of a story! It means so much :) x
> 
>  
> 
> AND SOSOSOSOSOOSOSO SORRY that i haven't updated! I just ended highschool this week and i have a lot of graduation stuff to plan! But here is a very very very awful chapter, hopefully you guys like it!
> 
> Also, i probably won't linger on Danielle's death for very long, frankly i'm very bored of it and i have many other ideas that aren't focused on this. And while i don't want to create an entirely new sequel, i will probably just continue in this story, but maybe shoot forward a few months to get some new things in there!

The room smells stale and clean as Zayn wakes up; the strong odor of medicines and disinfectants and sterilizers makes him cringe. He opens his eyes and squints at the brightness of the room. The walls are a bright white and the tiles on the floor are white and the sheets on his bed are white. White white white white. It makes Zayn’s head hurt and he wants to go back to sleep, he wants to fall back into his dreams. Everything is better there.

 

In his dream he wasn’t in the hospital, he was at home. He was with Niall and Harry and Liam and Louis and Eleanor and… Danielle. Danielle was there. With her beautiful curls and angelic face, she was there. Zayn could remember touching her, hugging her. He could remember hearing her laugh and her soft voice in his dream. But sitting in his empty room with no noise other than the constant beeping of his heart monitor, Zayn knows that he can’t fall back into his dreams. This is reality. This is real. Danielle is gone, it’s a fact and no matter how badly Zayn wants to shrink away and hide, he knows that he can’t.

 

The tears begin to fall down his hollowed cheeks before he even realizes they’re coming; they fall silently down into his lap, forming a puddle on his uncomfortably scratchy hospital gown. His IV is pinching his arm and he wants to rip it out as he cries, and he tries, too. But his hands are shaking so badly and they’re wrapped in bandages and he can’t do it. He screams in frustration, an ear piercing scream that jolts Liam awake outside in the hallway. Liam opens his eyes confused, almost forgetting where he was and why he was there, but then he sees Niall slumped over in the chair beside him and the rest of his friends and he remembers. Danielle is dead. Zayn is here. Zayn. Zayn is awake, Liam thinks, he’s almost positive he heard him scream and Liam stands up. His head feels momentarily light but he ignores it because Zayn is awake.

 

Before entering the room Liam checks the hallway for any signs of a nurse, but he knows that it must be fairly late in the night, probably very early morning, and any nurses on the floor are probably sneaking a couple hours of sleep in while they have a second. When the coast is entirely clear Liam gently pushes the door open, immediately seeing a tiny figure on the bed that could only be Zayn. His heart breaks as he takes in how fucking _tiny_ Zayn looks, wrapped in a too large gown and covered in bandages. Zayn looks so fragile and broken and Liam can’t seem to get any closer. The feelings whirling around inside of him are so overwhelming; part of him is relieved Zayn is okay, another part feels awful that Zayn is here, and another part feels so _angry_ for what Zayn did. For what he let Danielle do.

 

After several minutes Zayn realizes that Liam is there; he looks up slowly and immediately looks away. He can’t stand the way Liam looks at him with those big eyes, those sad, sad eyes. Zayn looks down and picks at his bandages. Neither of them say anything for what seems like a long time. The air in the room is heavy and Liam finds himself pulling at his collar and gulping before sitting in the chair beside Zayn’s bed.

 

He clasps his hands in his lap and takes a deep breath, “Zayn…” The other boy doesn’t meet his eyes, “Zayn.” Liam tries again.

 

“What?”

 

Liam is momentarily shocked at how awful and raspy Zayn’s voice sounds. It seems as though the boy had been screaming non-stop for hours, “You alright?”

 

Zayn looks up, making Liam flinch at the brutally dark bags beneath his eyes, and then he laughs. It’s a short, bitter laugh, and he shakes his head, “Is anything alright?” Liam doesn’t answer, “Nobody is fucking alright.”

 

The only thing Liam can do is nod, because yeah, nothing is alright. Nothing probably will be alright for a very long time. Liam stares at his hands, the walls, the floor, anything other than Zayn. Looking at him was painful.

 

“I was high,” Zayn whispers, almost too quiet for Liam to hear, “I was high, y’know? I was so fucking high that I let Danielle drive. I-I should have stopped her, yeah? I could have stopped her.” He pauses for a moment and Liam finally looks at him, silently willing him to continue, “But she asked for drugs, she wanted them real bad for some reason, and I guess I wanted them too. I fucking _needed them._ So I gave her my keys…”

 

Tears spring to Liam’s eyes but he doesn’t let them fall, he only shakes his head as he glares at Zayn. He doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to act. The anger he feels is so heavy in his chest that he can’t manage to get any words out. All he wants to do is scream and break things, but Liam remains silent and still.

 

“I’m- I’m so fucking sorry,” Zayn whispers, meeting Liam’s eyes, “I’m so sorry.”

 

Liam swallows dryly, “You know, Zayn, you’ve done a lot of fucked up shit. You’ve punched Niall, you’ve punched Harry- both who have already been abused by their family, yeah? You’ve stolen and lied and cheated, and all of that I’ve forgiven you for. All of it. But this, this Zayn, I can’t fucking forgive you for _this._ ”

 

Zayn can only watch as Liam walks out of the door, not turning back once.

 

\--

_Two weeks later_

_\--_

 

 

“What do you _mean_ they won’t let us come?” Louis hisses, tugging at his hair in frustration, “We have just the amount of right as anybody else to be there!”

Niall sits on Louis’ sofa, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie as Louis paces back and forth, talking on the phone with Liam. He has a pretty good idea of what they’re on about, but he doesn’t want to believe it. The thought of Danielle’s parents not allowing them at the funeral makes Niall’s gut twist.

 

“Well, well fucking tell them! Tell them we’re coming whether they like it or not!” Niall knows that on the other end Liam is trying to rationalize with Louis, but the boy looks mad with rage. His blue eyes are wide and sparked with something that almost scares Niall, and to be honest Louis seems as though he could cry at the drop of a pin. He groans in exasperation once more before nearly chucking his phone at the wall and plopping down beside Niall. Niall glances at Louis for a second and he feels his heart break when he sees how _deflated_ Louis looks. As if all of the fight and life he had was just sucked right out of him; his shoulders slumped and his skin was pale and he just looked so lost. “Wh-why won’t they let us come?” Louis whispers, looking at Niall and begging with his eyes, wishing that Niall had the answer, “Why can’t we come? We’ve done nothing wrong…”

 

All Niall can do is pull Louis to his chest and hold him, hold him tight as the sobs shake his small body. “I don’t know,” Niall mumbles, laying his cheek on Louis’ unwashed hair, “I don’t know…”

\--

 

“This is a fucking horrible idea.”

 

“Shut it, Styles.”

 

“Actually, this is a fucking horrible idea, I agree.”

 

“You can shut it, too, Payne.”

 

“Louis, I really don’t think you’ve thought this through very well.”

 

“I don’t think your parents thought it through very well when they were conceiving you, Liam, but you’re still here aren’t you.”

 

Eleanor and Niall chuckle lightly as the three boys glare at them, “So what’s the plan, then?” Niall asks, leaning his forehead against the window of Liam’s car and looking out.

 

“The plan is,” Louis begins, from the backseat, “is that we are going to sneak into the funeral and take it over.”

 

A sharp laugh shakes Niall’s chest and he glances at Louis in the mirror, laughing harder when he’s met with a very serious look, “And you think this is gona work? That they’re jus’ gona let us waltz on in?”

 

Harry groans and slumps back in his seat beside Louis, crossing his arms over his chest, “Louis, we could get arrested for this.”

 

“Oh come on, don’t you lot think we deserve to fucking be there?” Louis says, more sadly than angrily, “She was our mate, one of our best mates. Danielle would want us to be there, and she’d fucking _love_ this idea.”

 

The group nods solemnly, though none of them are too keen on the idea.

\--

 

When they couldn’t even get past the gates to the cemetery, they quickly had to come up with a new plan. It was either climb over the very threatening (and pointy) steel fence, or wait outside, just on the top of the hill. They could look over the entire burial, and maybe it’d be like they were actually there. Liam stands with Niall under one arm, Louis is to his side, clutching Harry’s hand tightly in his own. Eleanor stands shoulder to shoulder with Harry, leaning into his touch. Wishing someone would hold her, though she knew better to ask.

 

None of them said anything; they didn’t know what to say. They watched as the casket was lowered into the ground, disappearing from their view.

 

“This is it…” Harry whispers, his voice strained from crying, “she’s really gone.”

 

Everyone just nods silently and continues to watch, allowing tears to flow freely down their cheeks as the hole is slowly filled with dirt. And they stand there for well over an hour after everyone else is gone, the group can’t seem to move. They’re frozen in their spots. It isn’t until a patrol officer wanders by that they’re forced to move, and even then they were sluggish, as if all of their energy ceased to exist.

 

They get in the car, none of them talking. They can’t talk. Niall feels as though his voice was buried deep in the ground with Danielle’s casket. It’s lost and he feels lost, too.

 

They all do.

 


	20. Niall/Liam/Zayn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place six months after Danielle's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire story is full of nearly every trigger there is(rape, drugs, eating disorder, abuse, death, depression...). If that is an issue feel free to walk the other way.
> 
>  
> 
> None of this is real, besides the names of the characters. None of these events actually happened nor do I believe that they would ever happen. I also don't own these characters
> 
> Holy shit guys, over 4k hits?? You're absolutely mental, this is amazing! Thank you so much to all of you guys who have stuck with me through this rollercoaster of a story! It means so much :) x
> 
> Also super sorry for this super shitty chapter, i'm a bit lost on how to transition out of danielle's death and into new things.

_6 months later_

“You’re going to kill yourself if you keep up like this.”

 

“I don’t fucking care.”

 

Niall groans softly, his eyes flickering to Liam in hopes that he doesn’t realize who he is talking to, “Danielle is _gone,_ she’s _gone_. And keeping up with this _bullshit_ that you’re doing is going to put you right where she is; in the fucking ground, Zayn. Do you understand that?”

 

“I, I just miss her _so fucking much._ ”

 

“We all fucking miss her, Zayn!” Niall almost shouts. He immediately looks to Liam, but is relieved when he seems to be too distracted by tickling Harry with one of his own curls to even notice Niall, “We all fucking miss her, too.” He runs a tired hand across his face and leans against the wall, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down. But Zayn always gets him worked up like this, always. And maybe it’s because nobody else will give the boy the time of day since Danielle passed, after what he did the others just couldn’t bare to see him and act as though everything was alright. It makes Niall hate himself for being such an understanding and sympathetic person, because he wishes he could hate Zayn the way the rest of their friends and families do, he really does. But Niall knows that what hurts for him and their friends probably hurts triple that amount for Zayn and he can’t help but be there for him, despite everything Zayn has done wrong. And that isn’t to say that Niall doesn’t hate what Zayn did, because he does. He hates what Zayn did, but he just can’t seem to make himself hate Zayn, too.

 

Zayn begins to sniffle, “It just hurts so _fucking much_ , Niall. There’s a pain in my chest and i-it never goes away, it’s killing me.” He pauses for a moment and Niall bites his lip, “I don’t think I can do this anymore, I can’t- I can’t keep _doing_ this. Not by myself, I can’t do this by myself anymore.” Zayn sobs.

 

Niall doesn’t know what to say, so he waits for Zayn to continue.

 

“It hurts so much,” He says softly, “what I did hurts so much. I should have stopped her, from driving y’know? I should have, but I was so fucked up, man. I was so fucked up, and now she’s dead. I let her die and I’ve been living with it for six months, and I know I’ll be living with it for the rest of my life, but please, Niall. I can’t do this by myself anymore.”

 

What is Niall to say to that? He can’t exactly tell him, ‘sorry, all our mates hate your guts so suffer alone forever’ because that isn’t who Niall is. He knows what it’s like to feel that intense pain in your chest, he really does, and he knows that Zayn has a problem. A drug problem, specifically, and Niall isn’t entirely sure that he would be able to handle the loss of another friend.

 

“Okay.” He says.

 

“Okay?”

 

“Okay, come over.”

 

The reality of how stupid that move was doesn’t really register until his doorbell is ringing and Liam decides that he wants to answer it, sprinting ahead of Niall to throw the door open. The smile that was on Liam’s face falls, quite literally falls off and Niall thinks he sees it drop onto the floor, and is immediately replaced with a look of hatred and disgust.

 

“What are you _doing_ here, Zayn?” Liam spits. Zayn’s frightened and nervous eyes flicker momentarily to Niall and Liam groans, turning to look at the guilty blonde boy, “Really, Niall?”

 

He shrugs, his blue eyes trained on the ground, “He’s our mate, too.” Niall says softly, kicking at the carpet with his sock-clad toe.

 

Liam looks about ready to slam the door in Zayn’s face, but then he speaks up, “Please, please Liam, let me talk.” And Niall knows that deep down, deep deep down, Liam wants to talk to Zayn. Because, like himself, Liam is a very understanding person. He’s gentle and caring and there was never a doubt in Niall’s mind that if he were to ever be face to face with Zayn again, that he wouldn’t be able to say no.

 

“Fine.”

 

To say that Harry looks surprised to see Zayn is a complete understatement, the boy looks as if he saw a ghost though he doesn’t move from the couch. He just looks between the three other boys and purses his lips, waiting to see what was going on. And Zayn doesn’t hesitate, he waits for the others to sit down and then immediately jumps in.

 

“I know that you lads don’t really want to hear what I have to say, fuck, if I were you I wouldn’t want to hear what I had to say either,” Zayn mumbles, twisting his hands nervously in his lap, “ehm, I wanted to talk to you guys. I fucking miss you lot, yeah? I haven’t seen you all since it-it happened, six months. Except for Niall, when I could convince him to come out…” Liam shoots Niall a look, “But I never meant for this,” Zayn uses his hands and motions around them, “I never meant for any of _this_ to happen. I really didn’t. I never meant for her to drive and I never meant for her to hit someone and I never meant for her to _die_ but she _did._ I-I killed her, I know I did. And I know that no matter how much I apologize you guys will never fully forgive me, but I want you to just understand. Or listen.”

 

He pauses and everyone looks at him, waiting, “I, ehm, I got involved with a lot of bad shit. A lot of drugs and drug dealers and the whole lot of it, I was in, am in, a really bad place in my life. And I know I hurt all of you guys, but I hurt too. This hurts me, too.” Harry looks away, seemingly upset, “it hurts so fucking much, and you know what I needed after it happened? I needed my _friends_ to help me get through it.”

 

“Get through what, Zayn?” Liam hisses, “Get through the death of one of our best mates? A death that you’re pretty much the cause of?”

 

Zayn flinches inwardly, “I-I know, and I’m not fighting that, man. I’m accepting what I did, I am. And I’m going to get help,” he pauses, wiping at a tear that has traced a path down his cheek, “but I need you guys, not to forgive me, but to just _be there_ for me. We could get through this together.”

 

“Zayn…” Harry starts, his voice cracking as though it’s unsure of the newly deep tone it has taken on, “Zayn, we can’t forget what happened.”

 

“And I don’t want you to, all I’m asking is that you give me another chance. I know I don’t fucking deserve it, but I need you guys.”

 

Harry and Niall both look to Liam, who they know will be the only one to turn Zayn down. His big brown eyes flicker to the two of them before softening, his shoulders sag and he places his head in his hands, “Zayn, I just need to know that you’re _sorry._ ”

 

“Wha-what? Of course I am!”

 

“No,” Liam says sharply, “I need to know that you’re not just sorry that she died, I need to know that you’re sorry for letting her drive _drunk_ and for hiding away these past few months.”

 

Zayn’s eyes bug widely, “I-I didn’t hide away! You didn’t want to see me, I thought-”

 

“You didn’t even _try,_ you didn’t try. You were a coward, just like you always have been. This was all I wanted, for you to come to us and ask for our help instead of _pitying yourself_. As though you were the only one hurting, Zayn.” Liam is crying now, his nose red and his eyes puffy, “You aren’t the only one.”

 

“Liam I-” Zayn stands, Liam stands too, and then Liam is pulling Zayn into his arms. They’re both crying and they think Harry and Niall are too, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

 

“Me too.”


	21. Louis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis already knew that he and Harry probably would never work out, but he didn't exactly expect it to be because Harry found someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI YES HELLO i am here.
> 
> Sorry for disappearing for so long, i really super duper am. I've been really busy with my first year at college and what not. But here's a super duper awful chapter to hopefully get myself back into writing this awful story

Things suck.

They really truly do, Louis thinks that they have always sucked for him. Since the day he popped out of his mum, it was just his destiny to have a shitty fucking life. It was as if God was taking the piss out on him for a solid eighteen years, “Hey, let’s make him gay! And while we’re at it lets kill one of his best friends! And make him fall in love with another! Yeah, fuck you Tomlinson!” is precisely how he imagined that exchange to have gone.

He huffs bitterly and flips onto his back, staring at Eleanor’s ceiling and pretending it isn’t weird that there’s dozens of posters of men staring back at him.

“What’s got you buggered, babes?” Eleanor asks, glancing at him through the mirror. She’s been brushing her sodden hair for what feels like hours.

“Nothin’.”

She grins and sets her brush down, twisting in her seat to look at him, “Doesn’t seem like nothin’. What’s on your mind, Lou? You’ve been acting strange.” Louis narrows his eyes momentarily; as if he hadn’t a single reason to be acting strange, he wants to growl, “Come on then, let’s hear it.” She says.

Remaining silent, he just shakes his head, “Really, m’just tired is all.”

With a suspicious look she shrugs and goes back to brushing her hair, humming softly until her phone buzzes. Louis watches as her eyes quite literally light up and look as though they’re to pop out of her head at any moment. He sits up, looking on as she eagerly types a message and bites back a smile.

“Who’s that?” Louis chimes, his voice light and airy and almost mocking her heart eyes.

“Just a boy.”

“Oh?”

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and lets out a happy sigh when her phone buzzes again, “Mhm.”

“You gonna tell me who it is? Or are you gonna make me suffer?” He laughs, kicking his feet mindlessly in the air.

Biting her lip she turns to face him again, “Harry.”

And it’s almost as if the world just stops spinning, like in a stupid movie everything is in slow motion and Louis’ mouth goes tastelessly dry. _Harry_. Harry was _his_ , or at least, Louis thought he was. His heart is almost audibly cracking in his chest and he feels like he might throw up. _His Harry_.

“ _Oh_.” He squeaks out, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “Wow,” an awkward chuckle escapes his lips, “tell me more.” He ushers. He needs to know exactly what this means, he needs to know what Harry said or did and what things he and Eleanor have… shared.

And he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear what Eleanor has to say, but he _needs_ to hear it, “He’s just so lovely, Lou.” She gushes, a light pink flooding her cheeks as she talks, “I’ve never felt so connected to _anyone_ , y’know? Like, he was the only one I remembered after my accident, right?” Louis nods, pursing his lips, “I think maybe that, that is was like that for a reason? Like, I was supposed to only remember him.”

Clenching his hands into fists he tries to force a smile, “So are you guys _talking_?”

“I mean, I _think_ so.” She mumbles softly, tapping away at her phone momentarily. “It’s like, weird, y’know? He texts me good morning every day and good night, even if we hadn’t talked in hours he does it. Just little things.”

Just. The little. Things.

Little things.

_Little. Things._

Those were little things that Harry did for _him_ , for _Louis_. Harry texted _Louis_ good morning and he texted _Louis_ good night. Sometimes Harry called him and spoke softly until Louis dozed off and sometimes the other way around; sometimes Harry even had Louis sleep over or Louis him and they’d just lay beside one another and maybe or maybe not hold hands. They’d whisper things into each others ears and giggle quietly in hopes that they don’t wake up Anne or Johannah or Gemma or any of the girls. Those were things that _they_ do, and imaging Harry and Eleanor doing those things that he thought were his just… they make his stomach ache and he feels as though he might vomit.

“Little things.” He whispers, sitting up and crossing his legs on the duvet, “Does this mean you guys are like, a thing or….?” Being subtle and nonchalant about this was strikingly difficult, but Louis needs to make it seem like he isn’t crumbling apart from the inside out. He watches Eleanor as she ponders his question, her pink cheeks flushing a darker and deeper color as the seconds ticked by.

Suddenly she breaks out in a large grin and nods her head, “Yeah, I think it does.” Louis wants to smack that stupid smile right off her stupid face, “He’s so lovely, Lou.”

“He really is.” He grumbles, tugging free his vibrating phone from his pocket and seeing that it’s none other than Harry, “A real charmer.”

“Hey Lou?”

“Hm?”

Eleanor clears her throat and looks at him again, “Can I tell you something? Can’t tell the others though.”

He nods.

“Promise?

He nods again.

“Harry and I kissed.”

And okay, that one hurt a little worse. Actually, a lot worse. He felt the pain in his blood and his bones and everywhere else. Everything hurt and he needed to get out of there, away from Eleanor and away from her stupid happy face and her stupid stories about her and Harry. The anger bubbled up inside him and he wasn’t sure what to do or how to feel, he felt hurt, pained from the tip of his toes to the top of his head he was in pain. He thought that what he and Harry had was something… _real_. He thought that what they had talked about, what they had done, was real. And Louis knows pain, he knows the pain of bruises and broken bones and he _thought_ he knew the pain of a broken heart… until now. Now, now nothing seems to compare to the sharpness he feels cutting his chest open.

“Lou?”

He can’t even look at her, he can’t stand looking at her face, not while she’s talking about Harry.

“You alright, babe?”

Getting up and nearly running out the door probably wasn’t his smartest move, he admits that, but Louis felt nauseous even being in the same room with Eleanor. Not with the images of her and Harry and Harry and her running through his head. He had to get out of there and he might maybe be holding his breath until he’s safely in his car and pulling out of the drive way.

“Alright,” he whispers to himself, glaring at the road as he drives, “alright Styles, let’s see what you have to say for yourself.”

With Harry’s number already on Louis’ speed dial it only takes seconds until the phone is ringing, but each one seems to last longer and longer until he finally hears Harry’s voice, “Lou! Hey, didn’t you get my text?”

“Nope.”

“Oh,” Louis can almost see the smile fall from Harry’s face, “well I’m at Niall’s.”

Louis remains silent, fingers gripping the steering wheel painfully hard.

“Okay…” Harry continues, “you coming then?”

“Yeah,” he hisses, turning down Niall’s street, “I’m coming.”

And it all honesty what was Louis going to do? He had been through this with Harry once before, and he wasn’t sure that the kid was capable of changing. Maybe Harry just wasn’t ready for this, _any_ of this.

Was Louis crazy for wishing that he was though?

**Author's Note:**

> Please please please comment and let me know what you think. Ask questions, give criticism, whatever. This story is old from my tumblr(literally like two years old) and i'm slowly going through and attempting to kind of rewrite each chapter. But it's hard without changing the entire plot, which i've already sort of done.
> 
> Literally trying to make this story make sense is impossible and if someone would like to beta for me that would be amazing :)


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